5 Years Makes it Easier?
by nakala
Summary: Mercedes and Puck meet 5 years after the "relationship".
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: This is my first fanfic. I would really appreciate it if you would review my story. I grappled with putting chapter one and chapter two together but I decided to just leave chapter one as it was and add chapter two shortly after I publish one. But anyway, please feel free to give me all the constructive criticism you have, I thrive on it. **

**Bear with my story it starts a little slow but it should pick up soon enough and if you have any ideas on where you might think the story needs to go or if my characters are too far off please let me know.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own glee or any other thing in my story that i could be sued for.**

It's open mic night at Café Lorno, and Mercedes and Tina are seated at their regular table in the center of the coffeehouse facing the stage. They have been coming here since both began at Ohio State nearly three years ago. This was the type of place that most artists flocked to and Mercedes and Tina were no exceptions. Although Mercedes was quite the diva in high school, she had put all of her divatude on the back burner and was really focusing on school. She hadn't even joined any of the patrons on stage to grace them with her unbelievable voice.

After a poet she notices as a regular exits the stage, an old but familiar face enters.

"Tina is that-"

"Puck?"

"Wow! This is new."

"I know. I thought that after high school he would definitely be in prison by now."

"Definitely." Mercedes sounds bewildered as she looks at Puck preparing to begin whatever it is that he's about to do. For the life of her, she could not wrap her head around Puck's presence in the coffeehouse. Not that it really mattered. It had been nearly five years since she had actually spoken to Puck, and didn't think that would change now. Not that she wanted it to.

Ignoring what is happening on stage, Mercedes turns to Tina to inquire of her weekend plans.

"So are you going to Artie's tonight?"

"Yeah," a sly smile growing across her face, "Don't wait up for me. I won't be back until Monday."

They chucked; both knowing the latter didn't need to be said. For as long as Mercedes and Tina had been roommates and Tina and Artie had been dating, which was going on three years since graduation, Tina had spent nearly every other weekend at Artie's apartment. Just as Mercedes was about to make a lewd comment, her attention is stolen by the sound coming from Puck's mouth.

The opening bars from Savage Garden's _I Knew I Loved You _stops Mercedes in mid thought. She had heard Puck sing before, and he was all right, but now his voice wafted over the melodies like ribbon dancing in the wind, and she couldn't believe her ears.

"Mercedes?"

"Huh?"

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah. Yeah. I'm fine. Just wondering how long I have to listen to this pitiful noise Puck's trying to pass off as music."

"I don't know. It sounds pretty good to me."

"Yeah, well, I'm the music major, and I say that it's not music honey."

Mercedes sees a confused look on Tina's face and hopes she didn't come off too obvious. Quickly changing the subject before Tina has time to think about what just happened, Mercedes begins a conversation about the new Harry Potter movie that's coming out. Tina, being an uber fan, eagerly welcomes the subject change. While Tina rambles on about Harry and his comrades, Mercedes holds a close ear to Puck, amazed at his musical growth. Before she knows it, he has finished and is walking off stage. Becoming aware of Tina, she realizes that her friend hasn't stopped her ramble about the wizarding world of Harry Potter. Ignorantly lost in wonderment of Puck's performance, Mercedes is brought back to reality by the abrupt ending of Tina's conversation with herself and her Ke$ha ringtone. It is Artie telling Tina that he is outside. She tells Mercedes goodbye and leaves to partake in her bi-weekly escapade with Artie. Discovering that Puck was the last act to go on, Mercedes orders a white chocolate macadamia nut to go and leaves Café Lorno.

**A/N Next is the first encounter it is mostly in dialogue.**


	2. First Encounter

**First encounter**

"Oww! My cookie."

"I'm sorry. Here. It didn't come out of the bag. Are you okay?"

"I'm fine." As she grabs her cookie, she realizes who just bumped into her. "Puck!"

"Hi Mercedes."

"Hi." She comes off blandly, but Puck doesn't notice or simply ignores it. Not really knowing what to say, she stands in silence waiting for the sign to tell her to walk.

"What are you doing here?"

She looks at him with skeptism, "College."

"Which one?"

"Ohio State."

"What's your major?" Mercedes growing increasingly annoyed with Puck with each question answers exasperatedly, "Double, psyc and music. What's with the third degree?" Despite the tone in Mercedes' voice Puck continues, "No reason, I just haven't seen anyone I've known in a while, and it's kind of cool that I ran into you. Someone I know."

"You don't know me," irritation slowly taking over and conjuring the attitude she hasn't had to use in such a long time.

"Okay, maybe not in the since of now, but we dated in high school. I can say I knew you, and by default I know you now."

"Puck-"

"Noah, I go by Noah now. Puck has such ugly connotations I would rather not be associated with that moniker."

"Whatever, we dated for like a week, and if my memory serves me correctly, which I am sure it does, you were using me to gain your lame popularity back." The sign says walk and Mercedes is relieved as she thinks she has just escaped Puck.

"Wasn't that that Asian chick from glee inside with you?"

"What? Are you seriously following me? Puck I do have mace."

"What was her name? Terry? Lena? Tina? Tina was her name. I didn't know you two were friends."

"I told you, you don't know me; so, stop following me imbecile."

"Okay, I'll stop asking questions but I'm walking you to your car because it's safer. I'm not taking no for an answer; so, just let me do it."

"Whatever." Mercedes had given up trying to get rid of him.

She thought it was nice that he had thought about her safety. The Puck from McKinley would never have cared about walking a woman to her car without expecting a roll in the back seat, and she was pretty sure he knew she would never do that, especially with him. Maybe Puck was really turning into Noah.

"Hey whatever happened to that fag you used to hang out with?"

Mercedes flipped her head around peering into Puck's eyes with daggers of fury making certain he was aware of the button, line, and nerve he had just pushed, crossed, and struck.

"What did you just say?" She screamed this through clenched teeth, fighting back the urge to punch Puck right square in his stupid mouth.

"Answer me! Why would you – I can't believe – You know - "

She has to gather her composure before continuing any further knowing all too well her nature. She had long abandoned the Mercedes who was quick to react and make a scene; Mercedes had embraced maturity and found it yielded better results.

"You know you will never change… Puck," enunciating the name with disgust, "you can never be the man that you so desire to be because you're an ignorant, insensitive fool; who couldn't see good if it poked you in your eye, which I am tempted to do if you don't remove yourself from my space now."

Puck stood awe struck at what had just conspired. He had no idea why he had called Mercedes' old friend that horrible word, possibly from force of habit, but those despicable habits were what he was trying to break. He had screwed it up. He just wanted a new start with someone he once knew, but he had ruined it, and he didn't know how he could fix it. Puck wanted to apologize; yet, the words that Mercedes had spoken left him stunned, unable to move or speak. Her eyes glared at him with utter disdain, and it crippled him. Immersed in silence, he flinches as Mercedes slams her car door and speeds off. The taste of what he could not say lingered in his mouth causing a rush of thoughts to fly through his mind.

_Is it true?_

_Am I impossible?_

_I never meant to hurt her. _

_Everything I don't want to be I am. _

_All of my trying and I'm still Puck. _


	3. Are you Happy?

**THANK YOU GUYS FOR READING AND REVIEWING. **

**A/N: The next couple of chapters are mostly single character chapters looking more into them hope you like it. And IF YOU DO LET ME KNOW and IF YOU DON'T LET ME KNOW. this chapter is about Mercedes and the next chapter is about Puck. **

**Disclaimer: I don't own glee or any of it's characters and nothing else that could land me in court. **

Mercedes sped out of the parking lot with red in her eyes. She wanted to punch Puck. Something. Anything. She hoped she never had to see him ever again because she was doubtful she could keep her hands to herself. Jolted out of her rage-ridden trance by Beyonce's _Single Ladies, _Mercedes picks up her phone. A saddened smile grows across her face. It was Kurt.

"Hey babe," she spoke with a hurt in her voice still a little affected by what just transpired.

"Cedes, are you okay?"

"Yeah."

"Mercedes." Reluctant to comply with her stubbornness, Kurt spoke with the authority he knew he needed to get her to talk. The moment she opened her mouth the night's accounts poured out of her and the wall was dissolved.

Although, she didn't want to tell Kurt, she knew she needed to. Who knew what to say better than him? Kurt had made it through this and so much more during high school, and Mercedes had seen how strong her best friend was. He allowed her to be there for him then; his shoulder to cry on, and she knew that now she must allow him to be there for her, like no one else could.

"Puck sang so beautifully. I could have sworn there was something different about him. He even demanded I let him walk me to my car. We both know this is not the Puck from high school. Right?"

"It sounds-"

"Foolishly, I let him do it. I should have known not to trust Puck."

"Mer-"

"Oh, and he had the audacity to tell me not to call him Puck. He didn't want to be seen as the same guy he used to be. What a big difference that would make if he hasn't really changed. Such an idiot. Kurt I'm so glad you took my knife with you to New York because I was about to cut the boy."

Kurt giggles. "Why are you so mad at Puck? Are you frustrated that old fe-"

"He called you the F-word."

They settle into the silence, Mercedes reliving the moment, and Kurt being reminded of the hate from his adolescence.

"Oh."

"Kurt I'm sorry."

"You have nothing to be sorry for. Puck's an insignificant little boy in a grown man's body that has serious self-esteem issues."

"I know, but I really wish…"

"Mercedes, I know, but you can't let Puck make you sweat out your relaxer. You're too fabulous for that, and he's not worth your time sweetie. Okay?"

"Yeah," her voice trailing off in contemplation, "but you know no one messes with my Kurt."

"And I'll let no one mess with my Mercedes. So, is all of this Puck stuff out of your system?"

"Yep," feeling relieved that she had someone to confide in about anything, even something that could have been potentially harmful to him.

"My dear, I need to pry. What have you been up to? How is school? Have you started working on your singing yet, please say yes, and tell me you're not still alone."

"Nothing much, except school which consumes my mornings, days, and nights and most weekends. Psychology has me busting my butt with papers nearly every week. Music is a back breaker. I'm a composer, writer, and choir singer. With a schedule like this, I am definitely single, by choice. However, I am not alone. Alone implies loneliness of which I do not have."

"Mercedes, you have to find time for yourself, for love."

"I will," trying to sound convincing and wanting the spotlight to be anywhere other than her social life, "What about you? How is the play going? I haven't read the reviews yet, but I'm sure you're stealing the show."

"Hun, I'm in the chorus, I'm not stealing anything, but I am adoring this experience. I met this wonderful guy, and we hit it off. And guess what?"

"What, he's a millionaire and you're getting married."

"Only in my perfectly tailored dreams, but seriously, he goes to my school. We haven't had an official first date, though, I know it's coming soon. Everything seems so perfect. I'm in a play, albeit an off off – broadway play, and I am cavorting around with my own personal Adonis. I am so happy."

Kurt reminisces about his labored journey to happiness and can't help feeling his friend is missing out.

"Are you happy?"

The reticence on the other end of the phone pricks at his heart. His only wish for his soul mate was her happiness, and he was afraid that she was purposely avoiding it.

"Yes." She pauses oblivious to the fact that she had let her mind wonder, but answers instinctively upon realization. "I am happy."

Maybe she was okay, but was she actually happy? Kurt wasn't quite confident he believed this, much less Mercedes. She had not sold him on that idea.

Her desk was covered in research papers, books, and sheet music. She concluded that drowning herself in schoolwork would clean the filth of tonight out of her mind. Staring at the screen on her laptop, Mercedes' mind was in a flutter. She couldn't seem to focus; her mind drifting between song lyrics for her writing project, human nature vs. nurture, Puck, and happiness.

Tonight was not the first time Kurt had asked if she was happy. Since their stint as Cheerios, he had periodically asked Mercedes this question always eliciting the same response from her every time, save the night before he went away to NYU. But every time after that, she had retorted her rehearsed answer. "Yes, I'm happy." Past proclamations stained her lips with betrayal knowing that she was intentionally deceiving her best friend and first love. She didn't want to; however, she couldn't stomach letting Kurt know how pathetic she was. Recently, she wasn't being completely untrue, fortunately. It wasn't that she wasn't happy because in a sense she was. She had eradicated herself of her body issues and learned to love herself from within. Her previous state of mind conceived the ideal that she needed outside validation; her reasoning for joining the Cheerios and dating someone like Puck. Things were different now. She didn't yearn for external affirmation. She was pleased with her life; although, someone to share it with would be a pleasant addition. Yet, she didn't hurt for it anymore.

Resolved that she couldn't work on her multiple projects, Mercedes closes her laptop and changes into her pajamas. She was exhausted. Pulling her covers up past her shoulders, she exhales snuggling under the sheets. With heavy lids, she succumbs to sleep. Unfortunately, slumber eludes her because of Puck. He is standing before her broken and battered. Her eyes flash open as a flux of feelings course through her being. Flustered, she goes to the kitchen for a glass of water hoping it will calm her nerves. Water being just water does nothing but make her rush to the bathroom two hours later after having a dream about running water. Mercedes endures a sleepless night of tossing and turning, something she was glad hadn't happened in quite a long time. Waking in the morning, she begins her day sluggishly, perplexed by last night's disturbing dreams. Knowing all too well that she can't afford to dwell over spilled milk, she shakes herself letting her worries fall away and dissolve into memory and buries herself into her schoolwork.

A/N: Don't forget to review it lets me know what you like and what you don't like. Thanks hope you enjoyed this chapter.


	4. Beth

**FOR THOSE OF YOU WHO HAVE REVIEWED THANKS, AND TO THOSE OF YOU WHO DON'T PLEASE DO I REALLY REALLY WOULD LOVE TO KNOW WHAT YOU THINK GOOD OR BAD. **

**SORRY THIS CHAPTER TOOK SO LONG TO POST I REALLY WANTED IT TO BE GOOD SO I HAD TO REWRITE IT. **

**HOPE YOU ENJOY LEARNING A LITTLE BIT MORE ABOUT PUCK! :)**

Beth

Puck remained in the parking lot after Mercedes drove off muttering to himself about his ineptitude. Once he was finally able to move, Puck crossed the street completely in a daze nearly being run over by two cars. Opening the door to his apartment, he couldn't help but wish that there were someone there to welcome him home. Instead, there was only this open empty studio apartment with minimal furniture and a coldness that made him shiver every time he entered. Sadly, this time felt more lonely and cold than ever. At least before, this dismal place offered hope of a new beginning, but somehow, his altercation with Mercedes had taken all of that away. Puck wished he could just erase this day. Wash it away and start all over.

Before, nothing bothered him, and if it did he never let anyone know about it. He was tough. He had to be untouchable, thus Puck. Puck and not Noah could get away with indifference about being fatherless. Puck had to be a bully in high school and public disturbance to keep Noah a secret, only present late at night when Puck was all alone with his guitar. Eventually, those nights were filled with random women and too much alcohol, rendering Noah a diminished miniscule voice in the back of Puck's mind that was barely audible. Having to resurrect, to Puck, what had become a relic was proving more difficult than he had imagined. He was never as perfect as he wanted to be. Tonight proving this very fact to him yet again. Without fail, Puck would perpetuate behavior stereotypical of the him he hated, verifying internal doubts he longed to disappear but could not absolve. Each time, Noah gained a bruise and a setback. Puck saw Noah as broken and battered; abused by neglect that he deemed necessary to survive the life that he had been dealt. He desperately wanted to overcome the demons of his past, and when things were good, Puck knew that he could. Unfortunately, the good days were few and far between. Noah needed those good days, yearned for someone to share them with, someone to be there with encouraging words when he messed up. Dolefully, Puck had no close friends and had possibly ruined any chance of having Mercedes as a friend. Noah knew Mercedes could be good for him and could help him in many ways. In high school Puck had been put in his place allowing Noah to make an appearance, if only momentarily. There was something about her honesty and sensitivity that puzzled Puck and awakened Noah. Noah "Puck" Puckerman needed her. Nevertheless, Puck was resolved that that door was closed welded shut and cemented to the top. He would have to do it all alone, become the man he wanted to be, dreamed he could be, independently. Puck couldn't care, so he didn't. However just like before, Noah begged to differ, and wouldn't allow Puck to let a good thing go.

Often at day's end, Puck was left alone with only his thoughts for camaraderie. Considering these were plagued with hurt and despondency, his thoughts felt more like enemies than friends causing him to desperately crave a warm body and a night of drunkenness. Currently, he had learned to quell these desires.

As a child, Noah discovered guitar; his mother felt he needed something to occupy his time. Therefore, she decided to enroll him into the guitar classes at the Y. He was a natural; catching on with ease, the music always took him away of which he was grateful. Noah practiced hours on end honing his inherent talent. By the time he had reached adolescence, he had begun composing his own songs. Songs he never shared with anyone. He never needed or relied on his friend, his guitar more than when his daughter was given up for adoption. Puck was consumed with such regret and grief that he couldn't permit to destroy him. So, he played every night for a year hoping, to no avail; he couldn't eradicate his helplessness and free himself from his loneliness. Abandoning his friend and Noah to forget, Puck forced Noah deep down inside and only used his guitar for trapping prey, which he found all too easy. Only after leaving Lima did Puck pick up his guitar simply for himself. Rediscovering a passion he had long forgotten, he was reminded of a time where his music could rock him to sleep and make everything okay. As he played he could feel his old self resurfacing, his feelings arising, and he didn't mind. He wanted to feel, to be alive again. He wanted to be Noah.

The barren room beckoned sorrow and depression. A twin bed stuffed in a corner accompanied a rugged couch that couldn't have been worse for wear, which was sad because no one had been to Puck's place during the year he had been living there. There were no pictures on the walls, which were painted a bile brown color that greeted him morbidly each time he entered the room. The one redeeming quality was the large window looking out over the city that opened the room and reminded Puck of the opportunities that awaited his newly found self. His most prized possession sat by the window near his old stool. Beth had been there for him years ago, and she was his everything now. Beth was his escape. She could warm his coldest nights with just one strum. The sound fills the room and paints the walls with sunshine pushing the darkness out and clearing his mind of every depressing thought. Puck hums the melody to a song he hadn't completed, unable to find the right words. He wanted to play until his fingers bled. Until he went back in time and righted all his wrongs. He feels something rising in his throat and can't deny the sinking in his stomach. The song becomes louder and more complex matching the emotions rushing to the surface tempting to boil over. A tear hits the floor simultaneously causing his fingers to freeze. Jolted from his trance, Puck wipes his face and checks the time. Hesitantly, he puts Beth on her stand wishing he didn't have to; unfortunately, he had no choice because tomorrow and every day after required him to rise early and toil the day away until long after the sun had retired. Turning over a new leaf involved legitimate work and lots of it.

Standing in from of the mirror after showering, he looks at the reflection observing himself. His life's troubles lined his face and the sorrow he carried reflected in his eyes giving him a solemn appearance. Despite these indiscretions, he retained his good looks. Walking into the room, warmth he had previously created had vanished causing a chill to run up his spine. After fixing himself dinner, waffles because that's all he bought, he got into bed intent on getting a good night's rest before an early morning. Upon closing his eyes and quickly falling to sleep, Mercedes appears in the distance. Puck calls her name, but she doesn't respond. Thinking she can't hear him, he yells. In response, she turns her back to him. He feels the urge to run, so he does feeling as if it is taking him a lifetime to reach her. Once within reach of Mercedes he turns her around and they are face to face. Something is wrong. Her face is not the beautiful, kind, welcoming one he remembers perfectly from high school; however, it's the one expression he knew he never wanted to see from her, even back then. Failure fills his heart as he sees her disapproving glare. He awakens drenched in sweat, in spite of the fact that he fell asleep on top of the sheets in his boxer-briefs in the winter. He goes to the bathroom and splashes cold water on his face to relieve the tension and scourge the haunting image from his mind.

Lying in bed Puck can't help but think about Mercedes

_When I saw her, I hoped this would be my chance to reaffirm my transformation._

_She had seen the real me beyond everything else._

_I was a complete prick to her at M__c__Kinley. Forced her from my life completely. _

_After that week, she never even looked at me again. _

_MAN!_

_I wanted… needed…I have to prove to her, to anyone, to myself that I have changed…am changing._

He drifts off to sleep this time proclaiming declarations, inwardly hoping he is free of the ghosts of Mercedes past and present. So much for hoping. Nightmare after nightmare keeps Puck tossing and turning all night. Opening his eyes in the morning, he notices he has developed a slight fear of blinking, terrified that Mercedes' death stare may be branded to the inside of his eyelids.

Retrieving his uniform from the closet, he hastily dresses eager to get to work early. He mounts his motorcycle and heads to the first of his two jobs. Driving down the road, he weaves in and out of traffic with purpose, and the thought brings a smile to his face.


	5. Old Friends

**sorry this is **

**so late. hope you like it **

Work always gave Puck a sense of responsibility, solidified his belief that he was no longer a wayward son. It was the holiday season; thus, his hours were increased, and he had more than he thought he needed. Nonetheless, he was grateful because it kept Noah from thinking about Mercedes and scheming of how he could possibly coax her into forgiving him, which drove him crazy. These ruminations are quickly stricken from his mind as a rush of customers come into the videogame store where Puck works. Puck loved videogames; hence, his elation when he received the call that he had gotten his first legitimate job. It couldn't be any better, and he works with that same mentality as he approaches the incoming customers enthusiastically.

As the end of Puck's shift nears, the influx of customers yields to a slow trickle, when in rolls Artie. Puck looks up from the register seeing the person that he had deemed somewhat a true friend in high school.

Puck had attached himself to Artie as a ruse to fool his parole officer. He attempted to use Artie as community service only to find himself becoming fond of him. They had been as good of friends as Puck would allow seeing as he couldn't really open up to him as much as he would have liked, too much pride. That being the reason they never kept in touch after high school. Artie knew that Puck would never be the friend he wanted him to be, but he could see past the persona Puck had created for himself. For that very reason, after Artie moved from Lima for college he tried to contact Puck who would not return his calls or emails. Eventually, Artie gave up and left Puck in the past where he wanted to be.

Speaking to his coworker hastily Puck asks her to cover the register while he goes to speak to an old friend. His coworker complies, and Puck hastens to where Artie is sitting.

"Can I help you?"

"No, I'm just here to get the…" Artie pauses as the voice finally registers in his head. "Puck?" Artie looks up and to his bewilderment standing beside him is Noah Puckerman smiling like a child on Christmas morning.

"In the flesh. Although, now, I go by Noah. Long story." Puck rolls his eyes and raises his hand with a wave of don't ask. "How have you been?"

"I've been good." Artie drawls out incredulously.

"That's good…" Puck stops mid sentence taking cues from the inquiring stare Artie wears, knowing that too much time has passed between the two men but hoping he can make up for blowing Artie off all those years ago. Brushing his fears aside, he decides to go for it. "Artie I would like to apologize for everything. I was a big douche back then and have since tried to amend my ways. Dude, you were like a best friend to me, and I hate that I can't say that now. Also, it sucks that I can't say I was a good friend to you." Puck looks at Artie searching for some glimmer of hope, but what he sees is merely a blank stare.

"Look, Art, I understand if you want nothing to do with me; so, I'll just go." Puck turns around beginning to walk away when he hears Artie clear his throat.

"Uh, Noah, huh? When did that happen?"

When Puck turns around, Artie is facing him smiling with a curious guise on his face; however, Puck only notices the fact that the possibility of he and Artie becoming friends has just turned into a reality. "Over a year ago, Artie, my shift will be over in 10 minutes. What do you say we go out for drinks, on me? Then I'll tell you all about it."

"Yeah, that's cool."

"Okay, we'll meet at this bar I used to work at, Ringold's. Do you know it?"

"No, but I've heard of it. It's over on Abercorn, right?"

"Yep, that's the one. I'll meet you there in 30 that okay?"

"Yeah."

The two men part ways anticipating the reunion Puck believes could really be a turning point in his life. He is well aware that he needs friends, a support system, but has never taken anyone up on any offer. Puck assumed things were easier when you didn't have other people meddling in your private affairs rummaging through your dirty laundry. He lived in perpetual fear that if anyone knew him, really knew him, they would look at him differently. Instead of fear and reverence, it would be a barrage of pity, which Puck hated because of the weakness associated with the benefactor of that emotion. However, at this particular juncture in his life, he is willing to try opening up, cognizant of how the opposite had done absolutely nothing for him in his past relationships.

Artie buys the game he ventured to this specific videogame store to purchase and makes his way to his midsize SUV. After leaving Puck, Artie finds himself reminiscing about the pseudo-friendship that he and Puck shared during their last couple of years at William McKinley High. He remembers the first day Puck actually spoke to him, memorable only because Puck had recently been released from Lima's juvenile detention center. He propositioned Artie to become a part of some kind of community service activity. Artie never really understood Puck's specific angle, and when he thought about it, he didn't seem to have a choice because Puck had taken to pushing him wherever he wanted Artie to go. Recalling the week that he and Puck, more or less, with leanings closer to less, became friends, makes Artie laugh a little. The shenanigans Puck got him into were classic, and experiences, or rather exploits, that Artie is sure he would never have had the privilege of doing had it not been for Puck. Artie didn't have a best friend then, or now for that matter. When Puck came along, he was grateful and expected finally to have someone he could go to with girl troubles, which he discovered was Puck's _specialty,_ or if he just needed to talk, there would be someone who was willing to listen. Puck was only willing to talk with Artie about women and that remained pretty basic and a bit misogynistic. He didn't respond to more heartfelt issues. They were either blatantly ignored or made into jokes. Puck wasn't keen on talking about himself, his feelings, or even his home life. Artie knew that he had the wherewithal of being a good friend because whenever he needed him he was there. It saddened Artie a bit that it was hollow. There was nothing more there. The entire time Artie sensed that he and Puck were not going to be and never really were friends. This suspicion was validated when Puck didn't show up to Artie's graduation party or return any of his emails or phone calls. Which is why, even as Artie is driving to meet Puck for drinks, he can't suppress the dubiety that has him doubting Puck's motives. If he hadn't felt a great deal of nostalgia when he ran into Puck, he really liked being what little they were, he probably would have left Puck to his own devices.

Artie pulls into Ringold's parking lot; he thinks about waiting because he made it to the bar a little early, but upon further consideration, decides he needs a drink.

Arriving late, Puck enters the bar looking around trying to see if he can find Artie. In no time he spots him at the bar with a drink already in his hand.

"Couldn't wait, huh?"

"No, kind of needed it you know?"

"Sometimes."

The bartender comes over to the two men, and asks Puck what he's having and if Artie needs another.

"I'll have a ginger ale."

"What? A ginger ale? This is definitely not the Puck, or I mean Noah, I remember. If I remember correctly it was you who orchestrated my first encounter with alcohol." Artie's voice possesses a mixture of amusement and confusion, and his expression conveys both, which causes Puck to laugh slightly understanding where it comes from.

"I don't drink, not anymore." As this is a serious issue for him, Puck's tone is earnest as well as apprehensive. Fear swells inside of him, wary of letting Artie in on something he hadn't told anyone.

"Yeah? If you don't mind me asking?" He speaks cautiously trying to tread lightly; Puck isn't the sharing kind.

"Shortly after Beth…I started drinking a lot and abusing the stuff; so, about over a year or so ago, like 2 years now I think, I just gave the stuff up. Plus, kept waking up not remembering the night before, and sometimes there were women there I didn't even remember meeting. So yeah, I quit drinking completely."

_There it is; the door has been opened, and I don't think I can close it now. _

"Oh, man, good for you. Does that have anything to do with your name change?"

Artie goes for it, feeling that Puck seems to be in the sharing mood, which Artie can't believe because he never felt the need to do so in the past. His interest is sparked by Puck's new stance on drinking and divulging his personal information. Artie doesn't know what happened to Puck, but whatever it was, it did a number to him in Artie's opinion.

"Yeah, kind of, I started going by my name when I moved here. New place, new name, it went along with turning over a new leaf and all. So, I introduced myself as myself, instead of Puck. Sounds crazy, I know, but it works for me and keeps things in perspective. Reminds me that I'm someone different, not the old me, who is not who I want to be anymore."

Puck notices that Artie has finished his drink and motions towards his drink asking if he needs another. Artie nods and Puck signals for the bartender to replace their current drinks.

"Wow, I should have known there was something different about you when you offered to pay for drinks."

"Guess that was a dead giveaway considering how many times I dined and dashed, huh?"

"Pretty much." Artie can see that there has been some significant changes in Noah, which have obviously been good for him. "Do you remember that weekend you kidnapped me?"

"Yeah, I do. That was outrageous." Puck says laughing, remembering the multiple hijinks he got his friend into.

As the conversation takes a reminiscent turn, the two men begin to settle into a familiar pattern, feeling like no time has passed without them being friends, and things were better than they had ever been. Puck finally feels he can talk freely with Artie, and Artie feels the camaraderie he didn't feel before. They reflect on old times for a while, and as they come back to the present, Artie starts to inquire more about Puck.

"Where do you live?"

"I live in a small studio apartment on top of Café Lorno not too far from the college."

"You live on top of Café Lorno? I go there sometimes; I've never seen you there."

"I've been there as long as I've been here. I work a lot, I used to work here at Ringold's virtually every night, and the videogame store was and still is my day job. I also have a part time job at the mall. Outside of work, I don't go anywhere. That makes chances of me running into anyone pretty slim."

"I guess you ran into somebody last week, well, maybe, not ran into, but Tina says she and Mercedes heard you singing there. She said something about them introducing you as the house singer. How long have you been doing that?"

Puck winces at the sound of Mercedes' name, his altercation with her replaying itself in his mind, while inwardly smiling just a little at his new proximity to Mercedes' best friend's boyfriend. Not in a bad he wants to use Artie way, but in a good closer to mercedes way. Noah takes this as a ray of hope that he may get to see Mercedes and make things right. "That was the first night. I'm on for two nights a month it's a paying gig, and that night was sort of my audition, which I had in the bag. That's why I quit Ringold's to make way for my music. It is one of the reasons I moved here."

"So you're still singing? Never thought it would be you, me, maybe, but you not at all, you still play guitar."

"Yeah, I play all the time, compose songs and stuff. It keeps me sane, music is my sanity."

As Artie finishes his second and last drink he is reminded to ask Puck a question that had escaped him only moments ago. "Did you see either Tina or Mercedes?"

Puck is hesitant to answer the question, not fully sure of how to answer the inquisition. He doesn't know if he should gloss over the horrific ordeal that was him and Mercedes, a one sided main event, to avoid possibly upsetting his rediscovered friend who is friends Mercedes; or, if he should disclose all details. He wants to weigh the options, decipher between the pros and cons of telling or not. Snapping out of his deep reflection, he looks over at Artie who is staring at him curiously. Knowing he must seem crazy now, taking so much time on such a simple question, he quickly answers brain and mouth completely out of sync; his mind saying no, and his mouth rambling. "Yeah, I saw them after my set." _Oh, No!_ "I literally ran into Mercedes, nearly knocked her down. I was actually pretty surprised to see her." _Shut up! "_We talked for a while, or actually I talked as she scoffed and shot snarky remarks my way." _Stupid stop making that face. _Puck had a tender smile plastered across his face as he mentions Mercedes' and her legendary attitude. "But it got ugly when I called the gay guy – I mean Kurt – a fa- I mean the F-word. That was so foolish of me; I didn't intend on sticking my foot so far down my throat that it would be kicking me in my butt, but I did. It just kind of came out, and I couldn't stop it or make her believe it was an accident and that that wasn't me anymore. Before I could even speak, she ripped me a new one, and I was left standing there as she spun off wondering what happened. Now I can't get her out of my head, like, I have this inherent desire to fix things, to show her I am not the same guy who treated her and everybody else so badly in high school." _What just happened?_

Artie wasn't expecting a full on taxicab confession; he merely wanted to know if he had seen the girls, and as he looks at Puck ramble on about some disaster with Mercedes, he can't help but wonder why Puck is so bent out of shape about it. Puck had gone on as if he was talking to himself. The entire time Artie kept getting a vibe that the overwhelming need for Puck to prove to Mercedes that he had changed was deeper than maybe even Puck might have known. He also thought, he was sure, that Puck hadn't wanted to confess all of this to him, which is evident by the nauseated expression splashed across his face.

"Dang, man." Artie wants to say more but can't exactly find the words, and it doesn't hurt that it had brought Puck back from the shrink's couch without making him feel embarrassed.

"I know; I didn't mean to say all of that." The latter practically spoken in a sigh, as he realizes he has done the complete opposite of what he wanted to do.

"It's cool. I understand. I think?" Artie looks at him slyly. "Something like old habits, huh?"

The insinuation that Artie makes goes unnoticed by Puck, as he answers. "Yeah, I really didn't mean it, but there was no way she was going to let me convince her otherwise."

Artie looks at a puzzled Puck with a coy grin and asks the only thing on his mind. "Why are you so concerned with fixing things with Mercedes? Do you think maybe you might have-"

"No cripple." Puck cuts off Artie knowing the avenue he is attempting to veer down. The suspicion startles him causing him to resort to the immature name-calling he desires to free himself from. "Sorry dude, I did not mean to call you that, no harm really, I meant nothing by it."

"It's cool, you have diarrhea of the mouth. Characteristically, it's you, and oddly it makes me feel more comfortable like there's still a little of the Puck left behind that I used to know. Not that I don't like Noah. Just don't kidnap me." Artie laughs at the confused look on Puck's face as well as the ignorance that he has chosen to accept.

"I have got to get that under control. But, no," Puck says more calmly, "nothing like that, I think it's just I hurt her more than I hurt anyone and if I can rectify that, and she can believe I have changed, then maybe I could feel some kind of absolution. It would be a big boost in morale; like, I'm finally doing something right. You know?" Puck isn't sure Artie actually understands where he is coming from, the guy hasn't wronged anyone in his life, but he doesn't care because he knows and that is all that matters.

"I get it, but don't count on it. Mercedes is tamer now, but as I'm sure you know, she can snap back into her old self if provoked very easily. But yeah, I get it." What Artie doesn't say, however, is that he also understands that there is more to Puck's redemption plea than what meets the eye.

Both Artie and Puck notice the late hour and decide to call it a night. They exchange numbers and agree to meet up again at a later time. As they drive off, Puck on his motorcycle and Artie in his SUV, they feel as if they have regained their friendship. A new better friendship.

As Artie drives home to his apartment, his thoughts are pulled toward _Noah_ and his thing for Mercedes. Although, he could tell there was something behind Noah's incessant need for her forgiveness, where these feelings came from has him wondering.


	6. Hidden Truths

Hidden Truths

Mercedes' week, after running into Puck, had been routine except for the nagging reoccurring dreams about Puck. It seemed as if every time she dozed off, took a nap, or went to sleep his face appeared before her eyes, each situation different. Some of them so startling she would wake with her heart racing and her skin flushed. Aside from these new distractions, her time was occupied with schoolwork and choir practices. She had barely seen Tina all week, and when she did, she desperately wanted to talk to the person she had once deemed an associate, but who had become her best friend second only to Kurt.

Seeing as Tina's presence, since she had returned from her tryst with Artie, had been scarce, this had been impossible. Tina's work schedule had increased over the holiday season, and that coupled with time spent at the library explained her absence. However, today opportunity reared its beautiful head as Mercedes and Tina were in their dorm together for what Mercedes had gladly found to be the rest of the evening.

Mercedes looks at Tina barreling through some homework, and she seemed to be finishing up. "Hey, Tina, are you almost done?" Mercedes nervously asks Tina, as she was hesitant to talk to Tina about Puck in general, the reason lost to her at the time.

"No, but it's okay. I can talk and work. I should be done in about 30 minutes anyway. What's up?" Tina hardly looks up as she answers Mercedes, knowing if she can finish her paper, she will be ahead of her class work.

"Oh, nothing it's just that I've been busy, and between work and Artie, I feel like I haven't seen my bestie in forever."

"Awww, I missed you too, and I haven't seen Artie since the weekend. I've been too busy."

"I'm sorry to hear that; you must be lost without your love bunny? How was this weekend?"

Tina looks up from her paper with a devious smile on her lips. "Well, after we left Lorno, we went back to Artie's place, and when the door closed, he turned on the music and I took-"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, no need to go any further," Mercedes chokes out while laughing. She knew Tina and Artie had some rather torrid escapades but a strip tease. Mercedes was always shocked to hear of how open Tina was with her boyfriend, and it amazed her that someone as shy as Tina could be so different simply by being with someone, and she admired it. "You are really different with him, you know?"

There was a liminal undertone in Mercedes' voice that Tina couldn't place. "What can I say? He brings out the best in me. With him, I feel free to be me without judgment. It's like I found the person who I want to show all of me to because he shows all of himself to me, without holding back. For me, I think that's how it's supposed to be"

"You guys are so cute. I hope I can have that some day."

"Mercedes, hope? You will, once you slow down and take time for yourself." Tina knew as soon as she had spoken that she had scratched the surface of a wound neither she nor Mercedes ever talked about; so, when silence filled the room, she wasn't surprised. This was a subject Mercedes did not talk about, and Tina was well aware of that fact. They sat there in the silence for a while, Tina finishing her paper and Mercedes thinking to herself.

Two people had blamed Mercedes for her single status. First Kurt accusing her of being unhappy, and now Tina is blaming her. She knew why they both thought this; she was always practicing with the choir and studying, never taking time out for fun or meeting anyone new. Mercedes hadn't made much of an effort over the past 3 years to make any substantial friends, aside from Kurt, Artie, and Tina, with the exception of Garrison, who couldn't be called a friend per se. He sings in the choir with her, and tries to befriend her often; yet, Mercedes has never returned the sentiment. Inherently she knows there is a hint of truth in what they say, but fear always kept it from admitting it to herself. If she acknowledged what was said it would mean she was missing out on life and love, and it was all her fault. It wasn't her fault, and there was no way Mercedes was going to allow herself to believe it. She didn't think about this much lately because Puck continuously assaulted her mental station with his presence. Thinking about his dominance in her conscious, she felt she should talk about it; it might help her exorcise his image from her thoughts. With that, she decided to break the silence with Tina.

Mercedes hadn't looked up during her time of reflection. When she finally does look up Tina is lying on her back with her eyes closed. Mercedes wasn't aware that Tina had finished her paper and commenced to replaying her dance routine over in her mind. "Tina you awake?"

Without opening her eyes, Tina answers Mercedes. "No, I'm asleep."

Mercedes continues while chuckling to herself. She loved Tina's wit. "Okay, then I won't tell you about me running into Puck."

Tina leaps from her relaxed state and goes to the end of her bed, which was positioned directly across from Mercedes' bed. "What? You ran into Puck? Why didn't you tell me this sooner?" The anticipation in Tina's voice begged for details as well as scolded her closest friend for not speaking sooner, and none of this was missed by Mercedes. Unfortunately, the story wasn't going to be as jovial as Mercedes knew Tina expected her being the optimist she had become since getting back with Artie before freshman year.

"You were busy. I am always busy. Also, I didn't want to speak of it again. It was a mess. The entire ordeal was just harrowing. Before you say anything, it was. I haven't been able to clear it from my mind."

"So enough with the preface already, and tell me what happened."

"When you left for the 'strip club,' I bought a cookie, and just as I walk out the door, he bumps into me. My cookie flies out of my hand landing on the sidewalk. Luckily, the cookie remained in the paper because if it hadn't, I would have verbally abused him real good. Seeing as there were people near, I couldn't. If I were to have gone all ghetto on him, I would have looked like the big black ghetto girl."

"So what happened? Did he assault you or proposition you in some way?"

"No, I'm not there yet, be patient, we haven't spoken all week, and you want me to rush my story. Anyway, I pick up my cookie, go stand at the crossing to wait for the sign to change, and he follows right behind me nagging me and trying to talk to me. Mind you, Puck, oh yeah, he told me he doesn't go by Puck anymore but Noah…Noah." Mercedes scoffs at the name that had come out of her mouth. "Noah my butt."

"So he is going by Noah now, makes sense. Puck is stupid. Who wants to be named after some jerk from _The Real World?"_

"Suits him better than Noah. Where was I, yeah, so, I'm thinking why is he even talking to me. I have nothing to say to him, but he continues asking me questions like we're old friends, which he had the nerve to say that we technically were. He even pretended to be concerned for my safety by demanding I let him walk me to my car. He told me he was doing it no matter what. What could I do?"

"He wanted to walk you to your car? That is so uncharacteristic of Puck."

"I know, he mentioned something about change and that being the reason he wanted to go by Noah, Puck was negative, and he wasn't that person anymore."

"Wow, so far I'm not having a problem believing it. He seems to have made some changes."

"I kind of thought that, hoped it was true. For his sake."

"What? Hoped?"

"You know, he was destructive and even if I don't like him I don't wish bad for him. The road Puck was travelling in high school was not a smooth one." Mercedes quickly covered her tracks wondering why she felt she had to, and why Tina was looking at her that way.

"Didn't you date in like 10th grade?"

Mercedes' nose crinkled at the question. Confusion surfacing dragging fear close behind. With anxiety clearly in her words, she hesitantly answers Tina. "Yes. Why?"

Sensing something but not quite able to materialize it Tina replies casually. "No reason. Trying to put things in perspective. That was a hoax right? I mean, you never really told me about it, but I heard around that Puck was dating you until he was popular again or something like that. Did you know?"

"I'm not sure why you're asking this, but it didn't take long to figure it out. I wasn't Puck's type, so, that kind of gave it away. What kind of perspective are you trying to gain? I don't see what that has to do with anything?" Mercedes was fighting the urge to get flippant; instead, she opted for slightly annoyed.

"Just wondering why you are letting someone like Puck live in your mental orifices."

"He's not living anywhere."

"Okay." Tina could tell her friend had taken all she could take of this line of questioning. Wanting to dig deeper, but not wanting to annoy her best friend any further, she returns to the previous subject. "What did he do that was so bad?"

Mercedes looks up at Tina with hushed tears in her eyes and quietly whispers, "He called Kurt the F-word, and he didn't apologize for it."

"Now that's the Puck I remember. I'm sorry. It saddens me that people still say things like that." Tina could see the hurt in Mercedes' eyes as she uttered the sentence, and it made her hurt for her.

"Yeah, I remember losing it. There was a pounding in my head, and I could only see red. He stood there, while I tore into him, saying nothing. Maybe, he was stunned or angry, I don't know, at the time, I didn't care; he had disrespected my best friend. He infuriates me, Tina. It's like why pretend to be something you're not. He did that in high school. He's such a fake. I called Kurt right away, I really needed to talk to someone, or, I was going to hunt Puck down and cut his tongue out of his mouth. Kurt really knew what to say, calmed me down."

"I'm glad he did; we wouldn't want you going to jail." Although, Tina considered Mercedes to be her best friend, and knew Mercedes felt the same; things between Mercedes and Kurt were different. She knew it and accepted it. Kurt was more than a friend to her; he was her soul mate, which she heard Mercedes say often. They were connected by a bond closer than friendship. Her understanding of their bond allowed Tina and Mercedes to develop a closer friendship separate from Kurtcedes without competition.

"Hey, you still listening?"

Tina had retreated into thought and didn't seem to be involved in the conversation anymore. "Yeah, I'm still listening." She answered with a smile.

"I've never allowed people to bother me much, you know, wrack my brain, but every since Puck bumped into me I haven't' been able to get him out of my head. Before you start with those accusatory questions, it's nothing like that; maybe, he's put a spell on me."

The two young women burst into laughter at Mercedes' absurd conclusion. Underneath the laughter, Tina knew there was something being kept form her and Mercedes felt guilty for not being completely honest with the person who had become someone she trusted.

The mood had changed amongst the girls, prompting Tina to take advantage of it; she wanted to bring up a subject she knew Mercedes was bound to get upset about. She hoped the latter wouldn't happen. "What are you doing for Christmas this year?"

"Huh? I have that concert at the cathedral."

"That's the week before Christmas; I'm talking about Christmas. Artie and I are going home to Lima, and you know Kurt's going home to see Burt and Carol. Why don't you come with us?"

"You know I can't go home. They are worse than you and Kurt. If I go there single, yet again, they'll eat me alive. I can't take it. Not this year. Despite what you guys think, I'm in a good place right now, and I would rather not have them digging up skeletons. Just because I don't have a man doesn't mean I'm not happy."

"Mer, I didn't say that; I feel like you should spend Christmas with family instead of here alone."

"After last year's debacle, I need a break. I'm staying. I'll probably pick up a dinner from somewhere. I'll be fine."

"I'm sure you will, but I wish you were coming with us."

"Me too, but I can't go home without going home. Are you guys going to be able to make it to my concert?"

"What time is it going to be, Artie and I leave that night."

"It's at seven, lasts until about 9 or 10."

"We'll be there, but we have to leave early, but we'll be there. You have a solo, what are you singing?"

"I have three," Mercedes says with a smile, "I sing the first song, _Oh Holy Night, _one in the middle, _The Christmas Song, _and the last is a duet with Garrison, _Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas._"

"Garrison, huh?"

Mercedes waves her hand in the air as if to dismiss Tina's insinuation. "You know there is nothing going on between Garrison and I. We're barely friends."

"Maybe you should, you know he likes you, I know he likes you. Why don't you give him a chance?"

The thought had crossed Mercedes' mind a time or two, but a quick circumspection would put her back at square one. She didn't want anything to do with Garrison. "Because, I don't have time. I'm not looking for anything serious. Oh and maybe, I don't like him like that. So give it a rest. Please." Mercedes was begging with her hands clasped together.

"Okay, but think about it sometime, Okay?"

Mercedes knew how persistent Tina could be, and unwilling to endure a barrage of relationship talk; she nods her head in compliance, and climbs into bed. Relieved that Puck doesn't appear when she closes her eyes, Mercedes surrenders to the sweetest sleep she's had in nights. On the other side of the room, the opposite was happening. Tina lay in bed unable to sleep worried about the happiness of her friend. She knew that Mercedes and Puck dated in high school, but the details of the affair hadn't been told to her, which she respected. They weren't the close friends they are now, and maybe it wasn't relevant. However, it seems there must be something Mercedes was hiding from Tina, otherwise what would be the excuse for her mild obsession with Puck. Tina couldn't understand and didn't think Mercedes wanted to help her do so any time soon. Tina wanted Mercedes to open herself up to the possibility of love or just dating. That guy Mercedes sang with had a crush on her, and if Tina saw it, she was sure Mercedes knew it too. She should give him a chance. It might be worth her wild.

**Don't forget to review**


	7. Second Encounter

**The song in this chapter is by Eric Benet called Cracks of My Broken Heart. I take creative license so the song is by Puck. **

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything but the story itself. **

Second Encounter

Puck stood in front of his mirror admiring himself. Despite the years he had had, he still looked good, and he knew it. Tonight was his first official gig as the house act for Lorno. He expected to see Artie and Tina tonight. He and Artie had spoken briefly over the phone since they first met, mostly Puck trying to figure out if Mercedes had told Tina anything about what happened. Unfortunately for Puck, Artie hadn't spent much time with Tina in a while, and when they were together they didn't talk much, which meant Puck didn't know if Tina was mad at him too. If she was, he didn't expect her to come tonight, this meant no Mercedes. He did want Mercedes to come, if only to have the opportunity to attempt to apologize, which given the chance would still be more difficult than chewing glass, but worth it.

Artie sat in front of his bathroom mirror marveling at how handsome he had become over the years. The awkwardness of his youth disappeared with his Clark Kent nerd glasses. In the midst of his reverie of himself, an eminent disaster was looming. He had invited Tina to Café Lorno tonight without telling her it was Noah's debut. Along with Tina, Mercedes had been invited and accepted. Neither woman knew Noah was going to be there. Artie hadn't told Tina, who had invited Mercedes; this posed a problem waiting to happen. Artie hadn't spoken to his girlfriend about much of anything, but he was certain Mercedes had told Tina about her altercation with Noah. He didn't know if Tina had the same feelings about Noah as her friend. He would definitely find out tonight. He and Tina were meeting Mercedes at the café. Artie hoped this night didn't end in a death especially his.

Tina stood in front of her dresser at the mirror enamored at how comfortable she had become with herself and her looks. As a young girl, being one of the few Asians at school as well as in town made her self-conscious and ashamed of her ethnic features. Looking at herself now, she only saw beauty in every aspect of her being. Excitement about tonight placed a smile on her face. She hadn't had much time with Mercedes or Artie, and tonight she had the privilege of being with both of them. She hadn't been to Lorno in a while and looked forward to having a cup of her favorite caramel latte and a piece of crumb cake. Tina also couldn't wait to tell Artie about Mercedes and Puck. She was sure hearing about Puck being in town would surprise Artie; she knew Puck and him were friends in high school. Tonight was going to be fun.

Mercedes sat at her vanity examining herself in the mirror. The years had been extremely good to her; although, she was in her early twenties she could still pass for a teenager in high school. Gazing into her eyes, she saw nothing less than satisfaction. She was more than pleased with who she had become and how she looked. Mercedes' childhood insecurities were nowhere to be found; they had vanished long ago. Staring back at her were eyes of surety and happiness. She knew everyone believed that happiness came when you were attached to someone, but she felt differently. To Mercedes, true happiness existed when you truly loved yourself unconditionally flaws and all, which as she looks at herself right now she can't find any. She looked and felt absolutely flawless, perfect for her night out with friends. Mercedes needed this night out with good company and a delicious white chocolate macadamia nut cookie.

Artie leaves his home to pick up Tina. She hops into his SUV giving Artie a kiss on the cheek as she closes the door. "Hey, babe, how you doing?"

"Good, now that I see you." Artie leans over to return a kiss to Tina's cheek. The trepidation of the impending moment causes nervous tension in the vehicle. Artie didn't know how to verbalize the information he had to tell Tina and maybe Mercedes at some point. He thought he should tell Tina and get it out of the way. If she was going to get upset at least they were in the car and she couldn't walk away. Artie takes a deep breath swallows hard and bites the bullet. "Tina, Noah's singing tonight, it slipped my mind, when I asked you. I'm going because he asked me to come."

"What? Who's Noah, oh, Puck?"

"Yeah, I ran into him a little while ago and he apologized for how he blew me off after high school. He was my only friend. So, yeah."

"Why haven't you mentioned running into him before?"

"We haven't been doing much talking? It didn't cross my mind. When we got our time together I wasn't thinking about Noah, just you."

"Well, I have something to tell you too. Uh, Mercedes and Puck had an ugly argument the night I saw him. He called Kurt the F-word."

"I know, he told me, why didn't you tell me?"

"We haven't been doing much talking, remember? Besides, I just found out, like, the other day. She was really torn up about it, unnaturally so."

"Yeah, Noah was too. He hasn't stopped talking about it, since that day we met. He really needs to apologize. He said she didn't let him."

"And, I don't think she's going to let him. That was a jerk move to call her best friend that. It's going to take some serious gravelling just to get her to listen, which, if I'm being completely honest, I don't blame her for. She said he spouted off some stuff about him changing and does something like that."

"In my opinion, he has changed; he didn't mean to do it. When we talk it's Mercedes this and apologize that. Noah hasn't been able to get her off of his mind."

Tina doesn't speak anymore and neither does Artie, both thinking about what the other had just said. Tina was conflicted by what she'd heard from both Artie and Mercedes. On one hand, she felt obligated to stand with a united front against all things Puck; on the other hand, she believed her boyfriend. It wasn't a life or death situation, and if he had expressed remorse, then he should be offered some mercy. Also playing in her mind was Mercedes' over reaction to all of this. It was some suspicious behavior, and the wheels inside Tina's head were beginning to work out her own version of the mystery. Artie notices Tina's silence and takes it to mean he had messed up. He should have told her when he found out Mercedes was coming. He knew this could ruin their night but didn't want that to happen.

They reach their destination and Artie parks the car. Before he allows Tina to get out of the car, he grabs her arm for her to stay put. "I'm sorry. I should have told you about Noah. Don't be mad at me, please."

Tina looks at her adorable boyfriend and smiles at his inability to read minds and moods. "I'm not mad at you. You didn't do anything wrong. It's not a big deal to me, if you think he's changed then he's probably changed."

"Oh, I just thought I did something wrong, but he really has changed."

"I guess we'll see tonight, huh?"

They both get out of the car and go inside, Artie stops at the counter to order Tina's crumb cake and her latte, while Tina looks for her favorite table in the middle facing the stage. She takes her seat looking around for Puck hoping he was there because she needed to talk to him to confirm if what Artie was saying about him was true. No luck, he wasn't there, and probably wouldn't show up until he had to perform. Tina starts looking around again, but this time for someone else. Artie was taking a long time with her dessert and coffee. Tina was about to go help him, when she turned around, and he was there wearing a smile and carrying her items.

"You were about to come get me weren't you?"

"Yeah." She says bashfully.

"No patience. Tsk tsk. The line was long and I do have to maneuver wheels. But I love you anyways." Artie rolls his eyes as he says this.

"I love you too. What time does Puck go on?"

"He goes on soon I guess. Why?"

"I just wanted to reacquaint myself with him or should I say meet because we never really spoke in high school; so, technically I was not acquainted with him to reacquaint myself-"

"Tina! You're rambling. What's the real reason?"

"I kind of wanted to talk to him about his change and Mercedes and feel him out a little, see if what you say is true."

"Why?"

"I need to know if he's worth forgiving because from what I remember he couldn't hide who he was, and I get this feeling that Mercedes' utter disgust with him is due to her trying to mask some feelings she may have for him."

"You think Mercedes has feelings for Noah?"

"Yep, I do. She's too worked up over someone she may not have ever seen again in her life, which just turned into a definite impossibility tonight."

"Funny you say that because I get the same thing from Noah. I asked him about it, and he flipped out on me. He even called me a name."

"I hinted at it with Mer and she got super annoyed really quickly. Couldn't dig deeper, but I know there's something there, maybe she doesn't know or doesn't want to face it. What did Puck say after he flipped out?"

"He denied anything, but he had that stupid look on his face when he mentioned Mercedes as he did when we were younger. He tried to hide it."

The conversation halted for a moment while Artie stole a chunk of his girlfriend's cake, and Tina fell into thought. Tina finally broke the silence as Artie was trying to grab her latte. She slaps his hand away and continues. "What do you think will happen when Mercedes sees him tonight?"

"I don't know, may she'll hug him and forgive him, and talk about their feelings." Artie finishes with a straight face trying not to smile. He and Tina eventually both break into laughter at the impossibility of what Artie just said.

"Yeah, right. She's more likely to turn into the Incredible Hulk, destroy this place, and eat Puck."

"Maybe it won't be that bad."

"Babe, angry Mercedes do nothing? I don't think so."

"She's going to cut him, isn't she?"

"No, Kurt took her switch blade when he left for New York, and I haven't allowed her to get another one. She's not going to stab him, but she did take that kick boxing class; so, I can't count out a good roundhouse to his chin. Mer told me she wanted to put his eye out."

"He didn't tell me that. Maybe, I should warn him about her coming; so, he could have a good defense to her monster offense."

"I think it's too late; he's already walking on stage."

Tina and Artie both sigh looking each other in the eye with fearful expressions. They turn to look at the stage and Puck. He looks nervous but ready. He takes his seat and introduces himself. "I'm Noah and I'll be singing for you tonight and every other weekend until. The first song I'm going to sing is called _Cracks of my Broken Heart,_ something I wrote a little while ago. So here goes."

Just as Puck begins to sing, Mercedes walks into the café. She spots Tina and Artie staring at each other with worried looks, which makes her think something may be wrong; to give them time to talk, she decides to go order her cookie and a short white-hot chocolate. The music playing in the background barely grabs her attention as she waits in line to order. The melancholy sound echoes the emotions she has been feeling as of late, but she doesn't want to succumb to those feelings tonight. She steps closer to the counter becoming the next person in line, and while she is making sure that she wants the hot chocolate and not the chai tea, she hears his voice.

_Maybe we need just a little more time_

_Time that can heal what's been on your mind_

Stunned by the conviction in his voice, Mercedes ignores the barista asking her about her order, captivated by the words coming from the only person she ever allowed to get close to her.

_I know it's taking a while but every lesson I've learned_

_And if your heart speaks tonight, I'll hear every word_

She has yet to look up and when she does, she looks to Tina who is staring back at her tristfully. Her eyes slowly make it to the stage. She pauses at the floor of the stage, emotion on the verge of over taking her. She takes a deep breath and continues her gaze upward. Gazing into his face, she's relieved his eyes are closed but stops breathing the moment he opens them, and they are connected with hers. Tears race to the surface glazing her eyes; she forces them back refusing to shed a tear over spoiled milk of which she knows Puck could be nothing more.

Holding her in her place with his hypnotizing gaze, Puck sings as if he's singing to only her, hoping she will listen. He sees that she is about to turn around and sings harder.

_Hold on _

_And it won't take long_

_I hope that you can forgive me_

_When the pain is gone_

_I don't want us to fall through the cracks of a broken heart_

_Don't want us to fall through the cracks of your broken heart_

Mercedes becomes immobile listening to the words of the song, knowing what Puck is trying to do, but she can't give in, not now.

Puck sits silently staring at Mercedes as the audience showers him in adulation. "Thank you, Thank you." He speaks without removing his eyes from her. In an instant, their gaze is broken, and she is walking toward the door. He can't let her walk out and leave without trying to apologize and making her listen to him. "I'm going to take a small break, get some air, I'll be back in a minute." This was not good. His first day on the job, and he was probably going to lose this gig, but that didn't matter, not now.

Mercedes watches Puck humbly accept the applause. He looks sincere, not an ounce of pride or himself present. These thoughts force a tear from her eye; realizing she is now crying, she quickly turns around briskly walking to the door. Once outside, Mercedes cries harder because she can't cross the street the sign says don't walk, and she's trapped looking like some damsel in distress. People begin to stare, taking note, she starts walking with no direction trying to escape the inquiring eyes. Before she makes it past an alley, she is startled by the firm grip of a hand on her arm.

Puck walks off the stage rushing to reach Mercedes before she makes it to her car. Hurriedly, he makes it to the door; he can't see her waiting with the rest of the people to cross the street. Bolting out of the café, Puck looks left and right trying to determine which direction she has taken. He chooses left; it looks dark and few people are walking that way. Pushing pass pedestrians in his way, he catches a glimpse of her, which quickens his stride. He reaches her before she passes the alley leading to his apartment. He grabs her arm forcibly to stop her; although, she seems startled by his touch she jerks her arm away, only to have him grab both arms. Frustrated by her desire to fight him he yells her name with anger. "Mercedes!" She doesn't answer, but she stops fighting his grip. The next time he speaks more gently at a whisper. "Mercedes?" At the sound of his voice, she loses all of the rigidness in her body. She responds with a quiet whimper audible to Puck unbeknown to her. "I'm sorry." There was more Puck wanted to say, but seeing Mercedes like this leaves him dumbfounded and all the things he wanted to say can't find their way to his lips. She stands stark still unresponsive to the apology that Puck has just made. "Please say something." She doesn't speak. She just turns around to face him.

Upon recognizing the hand didn't belong to a serial killer rapist, Mercedes angrily snatches her arm from his grip. She tries to walk away but is halted by two hands on both her arms. The hands holding her are unwanted and she wants him to know it. Her shoulders push and pull as she attempts to free herself. Just as she's about to elbow him to get loose, he screams her name. All previous attempts of escaping his hold cease as she tenses at the sound of her name. She doesn't know why he sounds so angry. She's about to show him how she feels, when he whispers her name questioningly. Something in his voice causes her to surrender, losing all the fight she wanted to give him. The tears that had been stifled by angry freely fall from her eyes causing her to whimper. She desperately hopes he didn't hear her, but his apology tells her differently, and she wishes he hadn't. She doesn't want to forgive him not for this not for anything. He doesn't deserve forgiveness. She remains silent waiting for him to say more, but he doesn't. His hands loosen their hold on Mercedes but no contact is lost. They stand this way for what feels like an eternity for both of them, until Puck finally speaks. His plea doesn't go unnoticed, but Mercedes doesn't think he wants to hear what she has to say. She turns around to face him ready to give him every piece of her mind that she has ever had for him but looking in his eyes the words get caught in her throat. His sorrowful glare confused everything inside Mercedes. She couldn't speak for fear of what may come out, but she didn't have to.

Standing face to face with her, puck detects the hurt and confusion mixed in her glare. He never wanted to see her like this, not because of him. Knowing he had to speak before the hurt turns to lividness, he finds the words that were once lost to hm. "You don't have to say anything. This, this is all my fault. I never meant to say what I did about your friend. It was stupid. I'm sorry. I never want to hurt you ever." Mercedes looks away to avoid his gaze, the action causes a spurt of irritation to swell in Puck, but it is immediately dismissed by an immense guilt. He leans his face over trying to capture eye contact once again. "Mercedes, if I could take it back, I would, but I can't. I can only apologize and hope you accept. I really want us to be friends and I plan on apologizing until you forgive me because I have changed, and I'm going to prove it to you."

As Puck finishes Mercedes pushes him away from her. The apology she never wanted to hear has her mind reeling, and each thought is splashed across her face. "Puck, you're always sorry. It's like a constant state with you."

Mercedes spoke with an indifference that startles Puck leaving him, yet again, speechless. He was sure she was going to yell or cry or hit him even, not this. The way she spoke void of emotion took him aback. It's not that he bought it, because he didn't, it just gave him the feeling that he was losing, and he was not going to lose her. "Mercedes, you have to believe me when I tell you, I didn't hurt you on purpose."

"I don't have to do anything I don't want to, especially believe you, Puck. You're a LIAR. You always have been and apparently always will be." Puck had struck a nerve, unfortunately for Mercedes, it was the one he was looking for.

Puck spoke calmly and with resolve. "I'm not a liar, not anymore, and I'm not lying. Mercedes if you would just hear me out, it's not like I killed him. I made a mistake and just because the person I used to be said stuff like that without caring, doesn't mean it's still the same way now. Because I care, Mercedes. I care."

"Mercedes!"

Mercedes pushes past Puck walking back toward the crossway as he calls out her name. She couldn't believe him. He wanted to be friends, after all these years, he wanted to be friends. They couldn't be friends; he didn't know how to be a friend. Mercedes felt more anger than could be described. Her face was hot with anger. She didn't know if Puck was following her or not, but her legs carried her as if she were being chased by a pack of rabid wolves. Truth is, Mercedes wanted to get as far away from Puck as she could because the temptation to turn back was strong and teasing her mind, but her legs weren't listening, which was a good thing. She didn't know what she would do if he was standing in front of her. Travelling blindly, Mercedes bumps into someone as she's about to cross the street.

"Mercedes are you okay?"

"Tina, I don't know. I really need to get out of here."

"I told Artie that I'm going home with you."

"No, you don't have to do that. I don't want to ruin your night with Artie. It's been a while since you have gone out; go back inside. I'll be fine."

"Mercedes it's okay I told Artie to stay; he doesn't mind. He wants to make sure you're okay. Are you okay? He didn't hurt you did he?"

"Not purposely."

"Huh? What did he do?" Mercedes doesn't answer. "Mercedes!"

"Nothing. Nothing really I'm fine." Mercedes says feeling that she has said too much already.

"You don't have to talk right now, but you're going to talk to me tonight. Mercedes you can't always keep things to yourself, it is not healthy. You know I'm always here for you right?"

"Yes, I know. I just need time."

Tina grabs Mercedes' hand and leans into her. She looks at her best friend and gives her a hug. The sign says walk, and they cross the street hand in hand.

After being pushed by Mercedes, Puck gives up for the night. Walking back to Lorno he hopes he hasn't lost his job. While opening the door, he looks over his shoulder and sees Mercedes and Tina in an embrace. He wants to go to her, make her forgive him, give her a reason to forgive him, but he knows better and decides to leave that for another night. Once inside, he sees Artie has stayed behind. He tells him that he will talk to him after the show, if there's still a show, and goes to find the manager of the café. Before he can explain, the manager tells him to go on stage and finish his set. After the set, the manager tells him he hasn't lost his job and that he had better not do that type of thing again or he would. Puck is about to go home when he notices Artie is still hanging around.

"What are you still doing here? I thought you left with Tina."

"No, she told me to stay. She wanted me to stay here for you, as support."

"Thanks, but you didn't have to."

"Yes I did. That's what friends do. So…what happened out there with you and Mercedes?"

"Honestly, I don't know. I apologized, but she didn't accept, but I haven't given up."

"At least you still have your limbs and you haven't lost an eye."

Puck laughs and agrees. He really is glad she didn't maim him. "Tina told you about that?"

"Yeah, we were worried for your safety. Maybe she's not as mad as we thought she was."

"I don't know, she seemed pretty upset to me."

"Well, there's nothing you can do about that tonight. So, why don't you come over and we play my new videogame in celebration of you keeping your job and not being murdered by Mercedes?"

"Yeah that sounds good."

Mercedes and Tina ride home immersed in silence. Tina doesn't force her to talk believing that when she is ready she will, which she hopes is soon because she can't help feeling that she's missing some pieces to this puzzle of a mess between her friend and Puck. Their stomachs growl and both women look at each other quizzically, and simultaneously speak.

"Was that me or you." The silent drive full of tension has now become loud and boisterous as the two friends laugh and joke about the sounds their bodies have just made.

"So, I take it we're hungry." Tina says smiling.

"I know I am. I didn't realize I haven't eaten since lunch. Hey, you know I didn't get my cookie either. Where do you want to go."

"I'm in the mood for a burger. And you?"

"A burger is fine. We should go to-"

"Mustang Sally's."

"You read my mind, best burgers in town."

They are seated with their food and drinks almost immediately because it's close to closing time, and they are virtually the only customers in the bar. They are in and out before they know it and have made it home. They get dressed for bed, but neither is sleepy, and Mercedes has yet to tell Tina what happened between her and Puck. Mercedes finishes cleaning her makeup from her face and walks into the room where Tina is sitting on the edge of her bed looking at her inquisitively. Mercedes looks from behind her towel catching Tina's expression. "What?"

"I have given you time. Now, tell me what happened between you and Puck."


	8. The Night Kurt Left

The Night Kurt Left

Mercedes looks at Tina defeated. She knew it was a long time coming; she had been keeping a secret from Tina that up until recently hadn't been relevant. Kurt was the only person besides herself who knew, but now it was time to let her best friend know about the only part of her she had hidden from her.

"Puck apologized."

"What? That's what's got you so upset?"

"Sort of. He … I guess I should start at the beginning or you're not going to understand anything at all."

"The beginning, I already know about him calling Kurt the name."

"No, I'm talking about what's at the base of everything. I've only told this to Kurt, and the only reason I told Kurt was because he was leaving for New York, and I could let him leave with this secret between us."

"So you're ready to tell me now?"

"I kind of have to, you're my best friend, I owe it to you."

"So, I guess I should shut up, huh, and let you talk?"

"Yep." Mercedes settled back on her bed resting her back on her headboard. Tina mimics her and braces herself for the insight she's been waiting for.

"It all started the week I was a Cheerio, and Puck's Mohawk had been shaven. Prior to Puck asking me out, I hadn't thought twice about him. He was a bad boy, not my type, and I knew I wasn't his. At first, I wasn't remotely interested, he was too abrasive and offensive. He was a master at offending everyone, his prejudices weren't target specific. His advances were laced with stereotypes. Talking about my curves and calling me 'mama'. God I hate that. A woman of my likeness doesn't want to be called mama; it doesn't make her feel sexy. Aside from that, he didn't let up, and in the beginning, that irritated me to no end. When I turned him down, he just kept trying. After a while it kind of became endearing, and I gave in. I didn't know what his motives were at the time. I genuinely thought that by some fluke he was attracted to me and actually wanted to date me. It was only a week, but we moved fast. He was my first boyfriend, so, this was pretty significant for me. For a while, it was just us feeling each other out. Puck was such a jerk. He seemed to always know the wrong thing to say. For instance, the first time he came to my home, he greeted my parents with some old seventies street slang. My parents are doctors, and even if they weren't, they still wouldn't speak seventies slang. I had to apologize to my parents for his ignorance and rush him to my room. I scolded him, and it was epic. During my tirade, I saw something happen with him, he wasn't getting upset he looked ashamed. When I finished, he just stood silent before apologizing, like, sincerely apologizing. I couldn't believe it. Puck apologizing to me. It was a sight that quickly became familiar. He never hesitated to apologize to me for messing up. It became second nature to him. It's like he started to change right before my eyes. It was a gradual change, yeah, but it was happening. He would pick me up and take me to school; he even had hot chocolate waiting for me when I got into the car. There were a lot of things like this that he started to do. Because old habits die hard, I had to stop him from trying to sleep with me on several occasions. I feel embarrassed saying this, but although, I was offended I was also flattered. Puck was the only person who had looked at me as more than a friend and made me feel pretty. He was the first guy to ever tell me that I was beautiful. We had only been going out two days, and it was after our first date. He had walked me to my front door, and I was about to go inside when he told me to wait. I assumed he just wanted to talk some more because at the restaurant we barely ate because of all the talking. It was a really good first date. He really opened up to me. That date in so many ways changed what I thought of Puck. He wasn't only the person he portrayed to everyone, but he was so much more, but I digress. After I closed the door and faced him, he told me that he had never trusted anyone like he trusted me. He said he had never told any of the things he had told me to anyone else. This was major especially for him and I understood. After saying all that he just stood there looking into my eyes. It wasn't a gaze more of a search, like he was looking for something, and maybe he found it because he then tells me I'm beautiful and tries to kiss me. I backed away because I hadn't been kissed before, and I wanted him to know. I needed him to understand how important it was. He misunderstood and started apologizing right away. I laughed and it made things worse. He went from apologetic to offended in a matter of seconds. It took all I had to stop laughing and explain the situation. Once I did, however, he eased in and gave me the most gentle, passionate kiss I have ever had. I have to admit that in the back of my mind, I thought he would taste like ash or wood, but I was surprised when he tasted like chocolate. From that day until we broke up, I tasted chocolate daily. In between my chocolate sampling, I learned that he was a good listener and that we had a lot in common. He played his guitar for me. I loved just sitting in his room listening to him strum on his guitar. He tried to teach me a few things, but I couldn't follow because whenever he touched me I would lose focus. I don't know when it happened, but somewhere along the way, I fell for him. In hindsight it was stupid, but I couldn't help myself. We became so close. He showed me the real him and that person was hard to hate. I still don't hate him; the person he can be. Puck, unfortunately, didn't know how to be that person all the time, or just couldn't sustain being nice and kind for extended periods of time because the Puck that pressured me to date him came back at the worst time possible. We were on what turned out to be our last date. My mom and dad were at a convention, and I had the house all to myself for the weekend. I had invited Puck to my home and was going to cook dinner for him and watch a movie of his choosing. I planned on doing more than watching a movie, but I didn't tell him. If I knew then what I know now, I wouldn't have allowed myself to care so much. I answered the door smiling, I couldn't wait to give him his surprise. When he came in, I noticed his Mohawk had started to grow back. I loathed that thing, really. Everything went perfectly. Dinner was perfect, conversation was perfect. The problem came during the movie. Of course, we weren't watching the movie; we were making out. I loved him, and I wanted to show him how much. He knew that I was a virgin; we had talked about it before. So, he was on top of me and I reach for his buckle, and he gets up. I try to ask him what's wrong, but he just says he's not doing that with me and tells me we can't be together any more. That was the worst day of my life. I felt so stupid and used. I don't know, it's hard to put into words. He broke my heart; he had showed me who he could be, who I wanted him to be and taken it away. I gave him my heart to have him throw it back in my face. I think I cried the entire weekend. I didn't hear from him the entire weekend. A part of me expected him to call or come over and apologize, but that never happened. When Monday came, I saw him walking the halls with Santana. She was giving me the eye and taunting me. I was a pit-bull so I bit back. I was in so much trouble for punching her in her face. I quit the Cheerios that day, not because I was probably going to get kicked off, but I was never going to be one of them. So, when I was leaving the principal's office I ran into Puck. He was wearing a face I had seen before, ashamed and sorrowful, but this time I didn't fall for it. He…our relationship was a lie and I didn't have any more patience for it. I had to be strong; I couldn't show him how hurt I was or how much I wanted to believe the apology I knew he was about to give. So I spoke before he had the opportunity. I told him that there was no need to apologize because I hate the person that I saw standing in front of me and that I thought he did too. Those were the last words I had spoken to Puck until over a couple of weeks ago."

"You told me you knew it was for popularity, why did you try to sleep with him?"

"I lied. I had no idea that that was why he tried so hard to date me. I didn't find out until we broke up. No thanks to Santana."

"I'm sorry. So you were completely unaware of his intentions."

"Yeah."

"Did you ever talk to him about it?"

"No, I didn't need to."

Tina takes a moment to think, she doesn't want to appear insensitive, but the questions were piling up in her mind. "Mercedes, if you don't want to answer this you don't want to but do you still love him?"

Mercedes hesitates to answer. Tina notices. "You don't have to tell me."

"No, it's okay. I just…I thought at some point I had eradicated the feelings I had for Puck from my heart. From the moment I stopped talking to him, I declared to myself that Puck wasn't worth my love so I couldn't…I wouldn't love him. I never would allow myself to be taken in by anyone because it would hurt too much to lose it. Truthfully, I love the man I got to know that part of him that I fell in love with. I think I'll always love him in spite of what he did to me because I know there's more to him than the butt he pretends to be. He's like a rash on my heart, no matter how hard I try to get rid of him he keeps coming back."

They both giggle about Mercedes calling Puck a rash. Tina sighs, finally realizing why Mercedes had been closed minded toward serious relationships over the years.

"That's why you never let any guy that showed you interest get close. That's what you're doing to Garrison, isn't it?"

"If I do, it's unintentional. I don't know I don't want to hurt him, but mostly I don't want to get hurt. If feelings were developed I don't think I would push them away."

"Feelings don't just fall out of the sky. You have to be around the person, give them a chance."

Mercedes gives Tina a coy smile and gets up to go use the bathroom she thinks about what her friend is telling her. She wants to deny the validity of it but the truth is she can't because it's the truth.

"What's taking you so long?"

"You do want me to wash my hands don't you?"

"Yeah, I don't want you touching everything with cooties on your hands."

Mercedes comes from the bathroom with water still on her hands and splashes it in Tina's face. Caught off guard Tina screams as if she had just been stabbed in the eye. The sound her friends shriek, sends Mercedes into a stomach clenching laughter.

"I'm going to get you back."

"I-I…k-know…" Mercedes tries to speak through laughter.

"I have one more question; do you think Puck has changed now?"

Her laughter immediately cut off. "Maybe. I don't know. There seems to be something different about him, like before, but then again, I was wrong then I could be wrong now. Not that I matters anyway."

"What do you mean, doesn't matter?"

"I don't think it matters if he has changed or not. He's still Puck to me."

"So, even if he has changed and really wants you to forgive him, you wouldn't?"

"I don't know if I want to. He doesn't deserve my forgiveness."

"I understand that, I do, but what about for you. Not for him, not to try to get with him, or anything like that. You don't even have to be his friend. Would you forgive him just to put the past behind you?"

Mercedes doesn't answer; she simply climbs into bed and goes to sleep, and Tina follows suit.

xxxxxxxxx

"Noah, you hungry."

"Yeah, a little."

"You want a sandwich or something?"

"Whatever you got is fine with me."

Artie pauses the game and starts toward the kitchen. Artie makes them each two sandwiches and Artie gets a beer and gives Puck a coke. They take their meals into the living room and eat in silence. When finished they resume the game they were playing. "What really happened outside Lorno with Mercedes?"

Puck shoots Artie an annoyed glance, rolls his eyes and answers. "Exactly what I told you. I apologized but she was having none of it. It didn't matter what I said she was going to shoot it down. It's okay I'm not letting it go."

"Why not?"

"When did you and Tina get back together?"

Puck blatantly ignores Artie's inquisition hoping he thinks he didn't hear him.

"We got back together at my graduation party." Artie answers Puck, but acknowledges that Puck ignored his question. It's no big deal. He knows Puck will talk to him when he's ready.

"That was after a year or more of separation, huh?"

"Yeah, I was lucky we got back together. Brittany was fun, and I think that's what it was with her and Mike, but I really missed what we had. It was special, and I think we both knew that. I'm just glad we came to our senses before it was too late. I know you said you were the poster child for drunken one night stands, but have you been dating since then?"

"Nope. I've been very busy and none of the women who have approached me spark my interest. I simply haven't found what I'm looking for, and I don't know if I want to date women so far outside of what I'm looking for."

"What are you looking for."

"Stuff more than what's on the surface. Don't get me wrong I do want someone who is beautiful, but not just on the outside. The perfect woman for me could be smart without being a nerd; she would love music, but she doesn't have to want to be a singer or nothing just can. She's feisty without being angry all the time. She is someone who has a big heart and loves to share it. She can look past outward appearances and see someone's heart despite them. She's kind and has a warm smile that matches her friendly eyes. God, I sound like a broad."

Artie laughs. "Yeah you do. Thought about it much?" Artie asks sarcastically.

"Guess so… you and Tina spending Christmas together?"

"Yes kind of, we're both going to Mercedes' Christmas concert next week, then going to Lima. I'm spending Christmas Eve with her family and she's spending Christmas with my family. You going home for Christmas?"

"No, I'm staying here. I don't really like going back home."

"Oh… you can come to the concert with us."

"Mercedes wouldn't want me there."

"I thought you weren't giving up."

Instead of answering, Puck tells Artie he has to leave.


	9. Forgiving

**Sorry so late I know it's a bit off considering xmas was a day ago but forgive me and give it a shot. Garrison's likeness is Will Demps look him up and you have Garrison.**

**Standard disclaimers**

Forgiving

Mercedes drives to the cathedral excited. Although, she hadn't sang a solo in public since glee. Her choir director had asked her to sing before, but Mercedes had turned him down. She wasn't the same spotlight desiring diva from her past. She just loved singing and didn't need to be in front to be happy. Pulling into the parking lot, Mercedes notices she's too early because there is only a few cars there. She buttons her coat and wraps her scarf around her neck to shield her from the wind as she goes into the building. As she enters, she looks for members of the choir she may know. She only sees one, and he's admiring the beauty of the building. Mercedes chooses not to interrupt him, but rather takes a seat near the aisle. She watches Garrison as he walks around the room examining the structure of the interior of the cathedral appreciating the magnificence of the building. Garrison's appearance was a work of art to praise. He carried himself with the poise befitting his towering stature, and his milky caramel skin appeared luminous as if blessed by the sun itself. The darkness of his chocolate brown eyes was intensified against his fair skin. Kind eyes that suggested the ability to peer into your soul softened the muscular features of his face. Dimples in his cheeks wave as his brilliant smile says hello through his luscious lips. Garrison was a handsome man of African American and Korean descent. Mercedes eyes follow him as he disappears behind a pillar. As she is brought back to reality, she wonders why she never noticed how gorgeous Garrison was until now. Lost in reverie Mercedes isn't aware that someone has made their way to the pew behind her and is startled when they place their hand on her shoulder.

"Hi, Mercedes." She jumps a little and turns around to see Garrison.

"You scared me." She says a little breathy.

"I'm sorry."

"It's okay. Better you than some creep."

"Wow, thanks, I'm only better than some creep."

"I didn't mean it like that." Feeling a little embarrassed Mercedes turns around to completely face him. She doesn't know what to say as looking at him face to face has made her nervous, and Garrison notices.

"You okay, nervous about tonight?"

Relieved he doesn't know the source of her sudden uneasiness, Mercedes lies. She couldn't tell him he has just made her nervous. "Yeah, it's been so long." In reality, Mercedes could never be nervous while singing.

"Don't worry. You'll be great. You have such a pretty voice."

"Thanks, you have a beautiful voice too."

"You don't have to say that. I know I don't sound half as good as you."

Mercedes smiles at his complement, and when he smiles back, Mercedes feel her face blush. "We got here really early, huh?"

"Only by 30 minutes but I came early to look around. I love historic architecture."

"Hobby or occupational?"

"Both. After graduation, I want to work at an architecture firm. I fell in love with historic architecture on my trip to Spain 2 years ago."

Just as Mercedes was about to ask Garrison about his trip to Spain, the director walks in and they are placed in their spots and start vocal warm-ups. As she walks to her spot, Garrison walks up behind her and whispers "good luck" in her ear; she returns a "thank you" with a shy smile. During warm-ups Mercedes glances at the door and is happy to see Tina and Artie entering. She catches their attention and gives them a wave and a smile. After warm-ups, she steps ahead of the choir to sing her first solo in 3 years. Unbeknownst to her, as she sings the first note of her song, Puck walks in and takes a seat on the last row. She sings a soulful heartfelt rendition of _O' Holy Night. _ After three songs by the choir, Mercedes begins to sing _The Christmas Song _ and before she gets to the second verse Kurt comes through the door. At the sight of her most favorite person, a smile reaching from ear to ear grows across her face, which is reciprocated by the man standing at the door mesmerized by his best girl. When she is finished, Kurt waves and lips " I love you" and takes his seat. As Kurt sits down, Mercedes sees Artie and Tina getting up to leave. The two share eye contact and wave good-bye. The choir sings two more songs before the finale song. Garrison steps forward laying a hand on Mercedes' shoulder and walking her to the front to sing _Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas. _The music begins to play and she closes her eyes and hums along. She sings the first verse softly and calm. In the middle of her verse she opens her eyes and looks into the audience. She thinks she sees Puck but quickly dismisses the notion. Standing to her right, Garrison gazes at Mercedes in amazement. When he opens his mouth to sing his verse, his voice comes out smooth and melodic effortlessly hitting every note. They reach the chorus singing in unison. Their voices blend complementing and enhancing each other's talent. They look at each other to further their musical connection. As they near the end of the song, Garrison grabs Mercedes' hand. When the song is over he is still holding her hand, and she's still holding his. The audience arises in applaud, and Garrison nudges Mercedes forward and bows to her as the audience grows louder. Sharing the spotlight, Mercedes pulls him forward and shows him the same adulation he has shown her. They rejoin the choir as the audience files out.

Puck is on his way out to wait for Mercedes to come out, when he sees Kurt waiting for Mercedes, no doubt.

"Hey, Hummel." Kurt cuts his eyes.

"Puck."

"Mercedes did a good job, huh?"

"I simply don't have the patience for your small talk. What do you want?" Kurt had thought to suppress his anger when he saw Puck approach, however, in the moment he couldn't find the strength.

"I take it Mercedes told you what happened."

"Yes."

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to call you that."

"We should go outside to talk."

Puck follows Kurt outside to his car. He leans on Kurt's car and begins again. "Hummel, I am truly sorry. I don't think anyone should be called that especially you. That was immature and disrespectful. If I could I would take it back a thousand times, and if you don't want to forgive me, I understand."

Kurt looks at puck shocked. He wanted to murder Puck with his words, but the apology catches him off guard. He never had much use for Puck in the past or present, but knowing the feelings his friend had for him, Kurt decides to give him a chance. He thinks to himself; if Mercedes wasn't blinded by hurt, she probably would too. "Puck, I'm sorry, you go by Noah now, right?" Puck nods in answer. "It's cool. Not what you said, but if it really was a mistake, then I accept your apology. But, trying to convince the person I think you really want to apologize to, is not going to be so easy."

"I know."

Mercedes and Garrison walk together to get their coats and scarves from the coatroom.

"You, impressed me tonight. When I thought it couldn't get any better, you go and top that. Your beautiful spirit is reflected in your singing. It's amazing."

Mercedes can't conceal her blushing and consequently gives Garrison a silly toothy smile. She felt like she was acting like a goofy schoolgirl who was being flirted with by the star quarterback, and she hated that she couldn't do anything to control herself.

"You have a pretty smile."

Trying to disguise her clearly flattered impression, she quips, "I know, sorry I can't say the same about you. Your teeth are just too white. Not how it's supposed to be at all."

Garrison snickers at what he knows is sarcasm and flashes Mercedes his trademark smile and wink. "This smile melts hearts."

"All except mine." The look on Garrison's face tells her she has said something wrong, and in an effort to avoid the awkwardness of the moment and the hurt she sees in his eyes, she quickly changes the subject. "So what are your plans for Christmas?"

Garrison answers her as he helps her put on her coat and walks to the exit of the cathedral. "I'm going home to Cleveland until after the new year. What are you doing?"

"Nothing this year, just staying at the dorms."

"Christmas alone, no family, friends, no one?"

"No, I wanted a break from the hustle and bustle. I just want to relax and enjoy holiday music and movies in peace."

"Sounds like you have it all figured out. I hope you have a good time."

"You too."

Garrison opens and holds the door for Mercedes. Once outside they say good-bye and go their separate ways.

Kurt is talking to Puck when he eyes Mercedes coming from the church. He impulsively runs up to his girl crushing her in a bear hug. This was the first time he had seen her since the summer, and the exuberance he felt when he laid his eyes on her could never be justified with words. "Mercedes you look great and you sounded phenomenal. I would pay my last dime to hear you sing anytime."

"Oh, baby, you look fabulous too." Mercedes plants a kiss on his cheek. "I missed you."

Kurt kiss her on her forehead as he is half a foot taller than her now. "I missed you too. I hate that I can't stay longer. I'm leaving for Lima tonight, but I'll be back after Christmas and probably stay until New Year's day."

"I wish you could stay here with me for Christmas." Mercedes whines.

"You should be going with me to visit your family for Christmas. Dad and Carol thought you were coming. They were so upset when they found out you weren't coming, even Finn wanted to see you. This is foolishness Cedes. Why aren't you going home?"

"Long story short, I don't want to have to defend my singleness. They are way worse than you, and they love to throw the past in my face. So, this year I'm celebrating Christmas without criticism." At the mention of her past, Mercedes catches a glimpse of Puck leaning on Kurt's truck. This doesn't go unnoticed by Kurt.

"That past?" Kurt says as she turns toward Puck.

"What else."

"He apologized to me tonight, and for what it's worth I forgave him. I saw you up there with that cute guy; you should forgive him and let it all go. All of it. I've got to go. Walk me to my car."

Mercedes walks Kurt to his car with her arm entwined with his. When they get to the driver's side, Kurt gives her one last kiss and hug. Then gives her a parental look telling her to talk to Puck. Mercedes kiss Kurt and rolls her eyes. She really loved that boy. Ignoring Kurt's advice, Mercedes precedes to her car.

"Mercedes." Puck calls her name for her to wait on him to catch up. She pretends not to hear him and continues to her car. He realizes she's not going to stop and gallops in front of her causing her to bump into him. Mercedes disregards his physical presence, attempting to bypass him. Again, Puck is compelled to seize her by the arm and he does, stopping her in her tracks. Immediately she turns around and to his astonishment, she speaks to him.

"We need to talk." Puck releases her arm dumbfounded. "Do you have time?" she says with attitude written over her face. He nods afraid to speak thinking if he does he might lose this opportunity. "I know this quaint little coffee shop down the road that stays open late, can you go?" Puck nods in agreement once more, this time inciting irritation. "You can talk. I'm not going to stab you for talking, at least not agreeing with me." Mercedes continues talking in the same grouchy tone. "Is that your motorcycle?"

Still a little apprehensive about speaking, Puck answers succinctly. "Yes."

"You can ride with me, no need for you to be in this cold more than you have to. I'll bring you back when we've finished talking. Is that okay?"

"Yes."

Playing with Puck a little Mercedes snaps, "You don't have to agree with everything I say if you don't want to. I'm not going to kill you for disagreeing."

Not wanting to anger her any further he responds as gingerly as possible. "It's okay Mercedes, it was nice of you to offer."

Mercedes ignores his appeasement and grumpily commands him to get in the car. "Let's go."

They get in the car an drive about ten minutes before coming upon the little coffee shop that resembles someone's home. Both exit the car the same way they rode together, in silence. Not a word is spoken until they enter the shop and walk pass the display counter. "You owe me one white chocolate macadamia nut cookie and a hot chocolate." Puck looks at her addled. "That night I was about to buy a cookie and some hot chocolate, unfortunately, I saw you, and well we know how that ended. Me with no cookie and no hot chocolate. So, I say you owe me one." Puck smiles glad to buy her a cookie and a cup of cocoa. He grabs himself a latte and goes to the corner Mercedes has chosen for them to talk. He gives her her cookie and beverage and takes off his leather jacket, settling in for what he is sure is going to be the tongue lashing of his life.

"Thank you," she takes a sip of her hot chocolate to give herself time to figure out how to say what she needs to say. Before she can say anything, Puck speaks.

"Mercedes, I'm sorry. I know how you feel about Hummel, and I'm sorry. I apologized to him, I hope that shows you that I mean it when I say I'm sorry."

"I know; he told me, but that has no bearing on whether or not I want to forgive you or not. Besides that's not what I want to talk to you about."

"No?"

"No, Puck I think that deep down inside of you there is a great person. I don't doubt that I saw a glimpse of him in high school." Puck keeps his mouth closed, knowing where the conversation is going. He merely allows her to proceed. "It was only a week, but as a teenager, a week is like a lifetime. For me, it seemed like more, I fell in love with you, and you were well aware of the feelings I had for you; yet, you sullied and belittled them by claiming the relationship was a ploy for you to regain your popularity." Opening his mouth to speak, Puck is impeded as Mercedes continues. "If that was all it was for you the whole time then, it is what it is, I can't change that, but it was real for me and the way it ended was wrong. I deserved an explanation, or I don't know, a heads up. But that's the past and I really don't care to delve into that now, if ever, I just wanted to tell you that. I have to move on, and I thought I had until running into you, but obviously I hadn't. I see now, in order for me to do so I have to forgive you for all of that, it was a long time ago, and harboring resentment and anger will do nothing for my immaculate complexion." Mercedes finishes with a smile on her face hoping to lighten the heavy mood she had caused. Puck sits staring intently at Mercedes, unable to return her smile. He knew what had happened between them only five years ago had hurt the woman sitting across the table, but only now did he register the magnitude of his actions. As he has yet to speak, Mercedes break his contemplation. "I don't expect anything from you. I needed to tell you for me, but if you have nothing to say, it's fine. I can take you back to your bike, and we don't have to speak again." Mercedes stands up to put on her coat, and is halted by Puck's cracking voice.

"No, Please sit." Puck begins looking down at the table ashamed to look her in the eye. She takes her seat ready to listen. "I'm sorry, I can't say that I didn't know about your feelings or that I hurt you a whole lot. I just…the person I was…there's no excuse…nothing I say could possibly come close to making things right. I was more than a douche; I was heartless and foolish. You deserved…deserve so much more than what I gave you. I don't have better words than I'm sorry, and even now, that doesn't seem like enough." Puck glances up from the table searching Mercedes for something, anything to tell him he has said the right thing. She gives him nothing. "Mercedes, I'm sorry."

Looking in Puck's eyes, she spies the hauntingly familiar look. She couldn't say for sure, but she could have sworn she saw the man she fell in love with staring back at her. Mercedes gives him a weak smile and notices the tension in Puck's face melt away as he returns a more hearty smile. Puck places his hand on top of her hand sitting on the table. "Thank you."

Mercedes laughs a little. "Thank you? I don't think you have to say that, but you're welcome I guess."

"Sorry."

"Stop apologizing. I don't think I need to hear another sorry for the rest of the night."

"I'm sor-, okay. Do you want more. Some more hot chocolate or another cookie?"

"No thanks, it's getting late, I think it's closing time we should be going."

They get up, put their mugs away, and go to the car. Once in the car, Puck blurts out, "Mercedes, I want us to be friends. You probably have no intention of ever being my friend, but I really would like for us to be friends or become friends."

Mercedes chokes as she swallows flabbergasted at what she just heard. "Did you just ask me to be your friend?"

"Yeah, I'm sorry; it's too soon. I should-"

"You don't have to apologize. It just took me by surprise that's all. Friends huh?" She says secretly warming up to the idea.

"Yeah, you are a good person, and I'm friends with Artie again, and you and his girlfriend are close. I know they'll pick you over me any day, even I would; I don't have many friends, and by that I mean one, and it would be nice if I could hang out with all of you instead of just Artie. Nothing against him, I just would like to have more than one friend, but if you don't want to be my friend I understand. I just thought I would give it a try." Puck peeks at Mercedes who has her eyes on the road. He sees the side of her face, which prohibits him from reading her expression.

Mercedes peeps at Puck from the corner of her eye. He is rambling, which must be attributed to his nervousness. She observes that he never did this when they were together. She is not entirely certain if she wants to be his friend, but thinks she should give him a chance because he seems to have changed, and if he has, then he deserves a second chance. She doesn't answer him directly wanting to have a little fun at his expense.

"You want to by my friend?" She asks nastily. Puck doesn't speak he doesn't' know what to say. She just flipped from pleasant to angry. He decides against silence fearing it may make things worse.

"Yeah, Mercedes your friendship would mean a lot."

"So after everything you think it's just okay for you to ask for my friendship?" Puck looks at her completely puzzled. Mercedes sees this and nearly loses her composure, but regains it in time to stir more mischief.

"What? Cat got your tongue do you think I'm that easy? Send a couple of apologies here and I'm sorrys there, and I'm all yours?" anxiety overtakes Puck. He doesn't know what Mercedes is thinking or why she flipped out. He looks at her searching his mind for the right words to calm her down. As he's watching her he catches a glimmer of something familiar in her eyes, and the anxiety he was feeling instantly disintegrates, and ease replaces it. He knows she is toying with him, but he lets her have it because she deserves it.

"Puckerman, I'm talking to you; open your mouth. I know it works you couldn't close it when you were asking me to be your friend."

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have asked." Puck tries to sound as contrite as possible but by looking at Mercedes he can tell it didn't work.

"How did you know?"

"There's a thing your eyes do when you're trying to trick someone. I saw it after you finished your 'cat got your tongue' speech."

"Some things never change, I could never get you." They share a smile and look out the windshield at the cold night.

"I love this time of year."

Mercedes snaps out of thought. "The cold?"

"The holiday. It's like there's a happiness in the air. You know?"

"Not this year." Puck turns to face Mercedes as she talks.

"It doesn't feel like Christmas to me. I don't know."

"What are you doing for Christmas?" Puck inquires trying to figure what Mercedes means by what she is saying.

"Nothing, Christmas movie marathon at the dorm."

"You're not going home?"

"Nope. I needed a break from those meddling people. They always criticize me for my life choices. I just want a peaceful holiday for once. What are you doing?"

"Staying home like you."

"Why aren't you going home?"

"I really don't like going back to Lima in general. I would rather go anywhere than there, besides too many bad memories. Also I work the day before and after Christmas, so, no time even if I wanted to go home." They both look out the windows realizing that they have been sitting in the cathedral parking lot for a while.

"Thanks for the cookie and hot chocolate."

"You are welcome." Puck recognizes her tone. She's trying to get rid of him; it's late and she must want to get home. He thinks of something, but doesn't know what she'll think of it.

"Look I don't have a tree or nothing, and I'm no chef. Um, you're not going to, um, be with family and, um, I'm not going to be with family. I would like to, um, talk some more, that is, if you want to. What I'm trying to say is, uh, would you like to come to my place for Christmas."

He went for it. What did he have to lose? If she said no it was understandable, at least she agreed to be his friend. Looking at Mercedes, he sees her mind going; he just hopes it ends in his favor. He's okay with being alone, but company would be better.

Mercedes couldn't believe her ears. Puck had a way of keeping her on her toes. Was this a good idea? She didn't know. She didn't want things to move too fast with him because she couldn't be sure he wouldn't do something typical of his behavior. On the other hand, she was alone on Christmas, which was her choice, and she thought it was the right one. She looks at Puck finally committing to a conclusion.

"I'll bring the tree."


	10. Christmas Surprises

**Sorry so late I know it's a bit off considering xmas was a day ago but forgive me and give it a shot. Also the song is by India aire again creative license and both puck and Mercedes wrote the song Beautiful surprise by her. **

**Standard disclaimers**

Christmas Surprises

Mercedes wipes the steam from her mirror. The warm shower was a good start to what she thought was going to be an interesting Christmas. The past couple of weeks had been revealing to say the least. Who would have thought she would have run into the only man she had ever loved, the one person who had ruined love for her. She couldn't believe she was actually having Christmas with Puck, after five years of no communication, and disdain. This year was really ending with a bang. Here she was getting ready to go to Puck's for Christmas; she pinches herself; she had to be in an epic dream spanning weeks. December had turned out to be more eventful than her entire year. She brushes her teeth, walks out of the bathroom, and gets her clothes from the closet. She dresses casual in black denim skinny jeans and an off the shoulder red dolman with a green tank underneath and silver ballet flats. She looks in the mirror to check herself out. She looks good. Because she and Puck were basically creating their own little Christmas, Mercedes had a few items to bring. She told him she would bring her dorm Christmas tree; she thought it would be fun to decorate it together. Puck was cooking dinner; therefore, Mercedes offered to bring a dessert. Although, standing in the middle of her dorm room, she didn't know what it was going to be. Realizing she needed to find a grocery store that had Christmas hours, she carries the tree, ornaments, and a box of hot chocolate to the car. She loads her trunk and gets in the car. Sitting in the driver's seat, she wills herself to crank the car pushing out her second guesses about her plans. Luckily, one store is open and she can pick up a cheesecake. On her way to Puck's apartment, Mercedes finds herself reflecting on her feelings for Puck.

After Puck broke her heart, she vowed never to speak to him; she wouldn't acknowledge his existence. He was dead to her. The problem with that was that the incident lived with her no matter if he was nowhere around. For months, she cried herself to sleep. All she ever wanted was someone to love her for her, whom she thought she had found in Puck, but she learned a valuable lesson. She couldn't trust anyone to love her the way she wanted to be loved. As time passed, she inadvertently pushed possible suitors away afraid to give anyone an opportunity to hurt her. In high school she confined herself to a few friends, not exploring friendships outside the ones made in glee. Mercedes found herself lonely and unhappy. The night Kurt left for college, she decided she couldn't keep her private suffering to herself. She told him the details about the relationship and the devastation it had caused her. That night she thought she had freed herself from him for good. She had learned to be happy again. The bitter, sassy girl she was in high school disappeared to reveal a more confident mature woman. She didn't engage in any relationships; she didn't need to; she loved herself and that was all that mattered. She immersed herself in school and choir she didn't need a man. Puck wasn't an issue for her not then, but here she was driving to his home for Christmas dinner. Mercedes wondered how she had made it to this point in her life. Puck screwed up royally and she loved it. She didn't want to like him, he nearly ruined that by being nice and concerned. She knew she could count on Puck to be Puck. The anger she had unknowingly carried with her overwhelmed her in the moment he disrespected her best friend. She wanted to inflict two years worth of pain on him. The number of years she doubted herself, blaming herself for what happened. She thought she could live with the image reflected in her rearview mirror of a broken deflated boy, an image she kept seeing in her dreams. Talking to Tina, helped free her of some of her demons, and chased him from her dreams. Sleep was good; she was happy with never having to see Puck again for at least another five years. He was singing to her; he wanted her to forgive him, he needed her forgiveness. Then, he grabbed her arm stroking her heart exciting all the pleasant feelings for him she had buried deep down in the pit of her heart. She didn't want to forgive him, and she wasn't going to, but she had the best friends in the world and they knew she needed to forgive him for herself. Mercedes didn't know if it was going to work, but she accepted the idea and found herself less angry at Puck. when she saw him talking to Kurt, she knew what his motives were, and she was absolutely fine with them. She had forgiven him, but before she could let him in on that secret, he needed to know what he had done to her. The remorse she knew he could feel made it easier for her to give him a second chance. She could try to be his friend. She was amazed at how well he knew her; it allowed her to feel comfortable around him despite their past. That comfort was her reason for accepting his invitation, and she wouldn't mind the company. She pulls into the parking lot across the street, puts everything she's taking into Puck's home in one big box, and precedes to cross the street. She reaches the door and knocks without hesitation.

Puck opens the door clad in an apron and oven gloves. "Hey, you're early."

"I'm sorry."

"No, no, no it's okay. Let me get that for you. Come in."

"Nice place."

"Yeah right. It's not much, but it's mine. The chicken and potatoes are still baking. I hope you're not too hungry because it may be a while."

"I'm good. How long have you been here?"

"About two years." Puck continues conversing with Mercedes as he puts the cheesecake in the fridge, and finds a place for the Christmas tree. "You brought hot chocolate, and popcorn?"

"For the tree dope. I love hot chocolate and thought it would be nice to have a cup after dinner or later. Do you need any help?"

"Let me get your coat and you can check on the chicken and cheesy potato au gratin, if you don't mind."

"Okay." Mercedes hands Puck her pea coat and examines the meal. It looked good, which shocked her. "When did you learn to cook?"

"My mom taught me during my senior year in high school. It was part of her plan to make me a more independent man."

"Looks good."

"Thanks, we got some time you want to put up the tree."

"Yeah, do you have a microwave?"

"I'm a single man living alone; I have the best microwave. Here, I'll pop the popcorn."

Mercedes gives him the popcorn and sets the tree on the top of a small table in the center of the room. She pulls out the ornaments and organizes them by color on the floor near the table. The smell of popcorn fills the room, and Mercedes is reminded of her times with Puck. She gets out the string and needle. "Is the popcorn finished?"

Puck answers with a mouth full of popcorn. "Yeah."

"That's for the tree, why do you have to put so many in your mouth?" It's just like old times.

"I'm hungry." He says shrugging his shoulders.

Mercedes smiles and yanks the bag of half-eaten popcorn from his hand. "It's not like you need the whole bag. Your tree looks like it smoked some bad crack and lost its leaves."

"Shut up." Mercedes hits Puck's arm in between threading the popcorn. "It's all I can have in the dorm, and it doesn't look like a crack tree. It has character, like your apartment."

"I thought you liked my place."

"You insult my tree; I insult your home.

Puck looks at all the ornaments around the table. "Where exactly do you plan on putting all those ornaments because I see only one that will fit."

"You put on the popcorn and hush. I'm not saying anything about the baby bed in the corner."

Puck looks at his bed; he didn't know how much he missed talking with Mercedes.

"Just because you're trying to turn the little tree that could into a real Christmas tree doesn't mean you can take your aggression out on my living space with your ugly comments."

"Exactly, a space, this room doesn't even qualify as living quarters." They both laugh at their lame jokes and finish decorating the tree without a moment of silence. After the food is done, Mercedes helps him set a trunk they are substituting for a table. Puck fixes their plates. He takes the first bite, as he does, Mercedes asks if he minds if she says grace. Puck puts his fork back down.

_God thank you for this meal_

_New friends and beginnings_

_Bless this meal and us this day, amen_

Puck smiles at Mercedes, and she returns a smile he hadn't seen from her since that week in 10th grade. They eat quietly for all of two minutes before conversation resumes.

"This is good your mother taught you well. It's delicious."

"Thanks."

"Um, Puck why did you move here, to Columbus."

Puck eats the rest of the food on his plate. "I didn't have a choice. Things weren't good; I wasn't good. I almost didn't graduate from high school, not to say that was the beginning of my troubles, but it was a part of it. There was me missing Beth. I started drinking a lot that started after we gave her away. My mom put me out tiring of me coming home drunk and with a different woman each time. I moved into some ratty apartment, which I could barely afford because being a drunk pretty much guaranteed that I was not going to keep a job. I was going nowhere fast. I had no friends or a girlfriend just a bunch of random women whose faces I don't remember. Then unexpectedly, my mom calls and tells me my dad has died, my absentee father. I went to the funeral, I don't know why, but I'm glad I did. The last time I saw him was when I was three; he didn't play a role in my life while living, but his death affected me in more ways than I can name, and I'm grateful. There were only five people at the funeral including the priest. It was a sad sight. He had no one there to mourn him, and the stories I heard about him were eerily familiar. I was becoming my father, and here I was faced with the outcome of the life that I was living. It was scary. I didn't want to die alone and without accomplishment. I hadn't played the guitar since I started drinking, but after the funeral, I picked it up again. I tried hanging around Lima; I became a better person there, but it wasn't going to work. So, I left. I needed to make a change and living in a new place would help. Columbus was the first place I got a call back for a job, and I accepted it. I moved out here began working on my music and myself. Just me a new leaf, my guitar, and no random women, and especially no more drinking."

Mercedes was overwhelmed by the trust Puck had showed her in opening up like this. As good as things were when they were together, he never opened up like this. "I'm sorry for your lost, but I'm glad you decided to turn your life around."

"Thanks, me too. You finished?"

"Yes." Puck collects their dishes from the makeshift table and places them in the sink.

"Mercedes do you want me to cut you a slice of cheesecake?"

"No, I'm stuffed. You go ahead."

Puck picks up his guitar as he goes to sit on his bed. "Want to sing some Christmas carols?"

"Yeah, what you got in mind?" Mercedes sits on the couch and Puck begins strumming on his guitar.

"Jingle bells, Batman smells-"

"No something not that. What about you sing _Silent Night?_"

Puck sings _Silent Night_ and flows right into _O' Holy Night_ allowing Mercedes to take lead. They go back and forth for nearly two hours, singing and joking with each other. They take a break and Mercedes goes to make them some hot chocolate. "Do you have any marshmallows?"

"I think so look in the cabinet beside the fridge."

"I see them."

While Mercedes fixes their hot chocolate, Puck begins to play his song. Absentmindedly, Mercedes begins humming over the melody. As the melody progresses the words flow out of Mercedes' mouth without her even thinking about it.

_It's like yesterday _

_I didn't even know your name_

_Now today _

_You're always on my mind_

She walks over to give Puck his chocolate still unaware that she is singing the lyrics of her song to his melody.

_I never could have predicted that I'd feel this way _

_You are a beautiful surprise_

_Intoxicated every time I hear your voice_

_You've got me on a natural high_

_It's almost like I didn't even have a choice_

_You are a beautiful surprise_

Mercedes sits his cup on the floor beside him oblivious to his gawking. He can't believe his ears. She was singing the lyrics to his song. Mercedes sits her cup on the trunk and goes to stand by the large window, still singing.

_Whatever it is you came to teach me _

_I am here to learn it cause_

_I believe that we are written in the stars_

_And I don't know what the future holds_

_But I'm living in the moment_

_And I'm thankful for the man that you are you are you are_

She finally realizes the music isn't in her head and turns around facing Puck with a huge smile on her face matching the one he had when she looked at him.

_You are everything I ask for in my prayers_

_So I know my angels brought you to my life_

_Your energy is healing to my soul_

_You are a beautiful surprise_

_You are inspiration to my life_

_You are the reason why I smile_

_You are a beautiful surprise_

Puck puts his guitar down and walks over to the window where Mercedes is standing. "That was beautiful." Mercedes smiles bashfully and looks up to say thank you, but the words get caught in her throat when she looks into the mesmerizing green hazel eyes gazing into her warm brown eyes. They migrate toward each other unable to break the magnetism between them. His lips graze hers, and he backs away. She leans in for more finding his lips aren't there. She stares into his eyes as his bore into her soul. Her pleading look begged him for more. He knew what she wanted and needed from him, but he wasn't sure if he should be the one to give it to her.


	11. Or Christmas Mistakes?

**Well I am back I know it has been an insanely long time since I have updated this but I ran into a bit of trouble with this chapter it wasnt as good as I wanted it so I had to redo it a few times. **

**Also I want to thank everyone that reviewed, alerted, favorite and read my story thus far and I hope you all continue to do so. **

**I hope it makes you all happy to know that I have started and have an idea where the next chapter is going to go so it should not take me months to repost. I hope to update much sooner how soon I don't know now because I am in the middle of my clinicals for my dental assisting program. **

**So thank you all and I hope you like this chapter… if not let me know and if you do let me know, or not it's your prerogative. **

**Happy reading!**

Or Christmas Mistakes?

Something flickers in his eyes; she has seen this look before. Instantly, she knows it was all a mistake. A beautiful mistake. He opens his mouth, she's sure it's to apologize because she's seen this look quite often recently. Before his words cross his lips, she interrupts him. Mercedes didn't want to suffer through more well intended apologies. Not tonight, and definitely not from him. Things were too perfect and hearing that they weren't would ruin it all.

"It's okay. We just got caught up," mustering a smile as she speaks evenly. She could have easily won an Oscar for the performance she was giving, trying to mask the hurt she is feeling and praying Puck doesn't notice it emanating from her.

Caught off guard by her sudden detachment from the previous situation, he looks at her more intently. There was an unmistakable longing and hunger in Mercedes' brown eyes immediately following what Puck would believe to have been the most intimate occurrence of his life. He could feel it radiating from her body, pulling him in. There was possibly a glimmer of more, but he wasn't sure of his deduction. As she smiles, he catches an indiscernible emotion flash across her face; unfortunately it flees as quickly as it appears leaving Puck with questions. Not knowing the exact direction in which he wants to take the evening, he follows Mercedes' lead. "Yeah, I guess so."

"Yeah, no big deal." Mercedes answers without one molecule of the dejection she is burying to the depths of her heart being present.

Puck looks at her quizzically for an instant, but accepts her rationale. He embraces the silence engulfing the room as he observes his _friend_ stroll across the room for her coffee mug filled with hot chocolate that could only be warm at best.

"Wow, I can't believe this is still warm." It is a desperate attempt at breaking the monotony of the silence, but Mercedes is beginning to think the night was unsalvageable, and with the silence picking at her resolve, silence isn't an option at this juncture of their night. If grasping is what she had to do, then, she is more than willing.

"Yeah." Puck comments lamely.

Mercedes doesn't want to wallow in confusion or discus her most recent contact with Puck, which is a moot point as far as she was concerned, nor does she want to leave with the tension, so thick it was palpable, buzzing around. Despite his obvious rejection of something more than friendship, she still wanted to be his friend. He was worth it. With a made up mind of recovering her Christmas, she decides to carry on as if nothing has happened. Things were going perfectly fine before, and they would end that way.

"How weird is it that we have written the same song?"

Finally gathering herself, Mercedes broaches a subject she is certain neither can resist given their propensity for music.

Puck is standing by the window, where she left him shortly after the _kiss,_ pensively when the sound of Mercedes' voice penetrates his mind breaking his train of thought. When he lifts his head, she is sitting on his trunk with her feet dangling off the side drinking her tepid chocolate. A smile tugs at the corner of his lips, reminded of a different time. Surprise fills him as his green gaze meets her coffee stare. The lack of eye contact had gone unnoticed by the clearly disheveled man, until now. This is the first time since their lips touched altering the night's atmosphere that their eyes had met without aversion. Looking into her dark chocolate eyes, he feels like he isn't looking at the same person. Her expression is inscrutable; although, she sounds okay, unaffected even, there is no detectible emotion to be found in her voice or her eyes. This bothered him. The Mercedes he knew wasn't like that. She was easy to read. He had known her feelings to be always on display, never to be confused. This still held true even after their serendipitous reunion. To some, this could easily be misconstrued as naiveté and weakness; however, Noah saw the beauty in her simplicity. It was her strength, a gift that made her trustworthy. Eyes that before willingly granted him access to the unknown, now, belied her essence defiantly. Dreading to bring up anything that, in all truthfulness, he didn't want to talk about right now, and based on Mercedes' recent actions, or lack thereof, she too was avoiding said confrontation, he simply answers her.

"Yeah, it is. I was just playing this song like the other day. Seems like I play this song every night trying to will the words into my mind. I have written, I know, like hundreds of lyrics for it, but they were crap. They didn't capture what I want to say. The way the music makes me feel." He lowers his head averting his gaze from hers and whispers, "Yours were perfect though."

The entire time Mercedes listens to Puck she doesn't take her eyes off of him. She saw something behind his soul's windows but couldn't place it. It was familiar, yet, distant and indecipherable. Enthralled in contemplation, she almost misses the last words spoken by the man across the room from her still standing by the window. Processing his compliment, she smiles genuinely. "Thanks, I had to write it for one of my music classes."

"How'd _you_ come up with the words? They are crazy simple but stupid deep at the same time."

"I hope that's a compliment, Puck, because if it is not." She says with mock warning.

He winces at the use of his old nickname. "I go by Noah now." He states bitterly. She had called him this earlier in the night, however, hearing her say it now evokes indignation in him toward her or himself; the latter of which he could not be certain. He didn't want to ruin the pleasant mood they had created, balefully; he may have done just that. Thinking wasn't his best quality and often times he neglected it altogether. This time being possibly the worse time to do so while tensions were still high.

Acknowledging the instantaneous stiffness in Puck's physical appearance and the substantially harsh tone he adopted, Mercedes quickly apologizes. "I'm sorry, its, I wasn't trying…I know before what I said…" She stops to compose herself, "I didn't mean it antagonistically. Really. It's all I've ever called you. Force of habit, I guess. Sorry."

She didn't remember calling him Puck earlier, and for that, he was grateful. He nods his head giving the flustered woman a smile in acceptance of her apology, which immediately calms her. With Mercedes' nerves eased, he addresses her warning. "It's both." He says with a sly grin plastered on his face.

Mercedes furrows her brow, anticipating Puck's next move.

"Just listen before you bite my head off. You have to admit you were a little shallow in high school. About as deep as a mud puddle. Yes?"

Mercedes rolls her eyes, but concedes knowing there was some validity to his statement. "Okay. A little."

"Right. So…how'd _you_ come up with the lyrics? Its good you did, and I meant what I said earlier, they are perfect, but it's hard to believe you came up with it all by yourself." Puck winks at Mercedes exacerbating her irritation towards him as well as causing her to fight the urge to blush.

"Just so you know, I wrote them. Me. Myself. And I. And I didn't need anybody's help. Not that I would ever need it." She answers giving Puck a rebellious stare. "So whatever." She rolls her eyes and continues. "The words sort of came to me. It was an assignment, and at first, I wracked my mind trying to think of something, anything. The assignment called for me to write a love song, which is markedly different from writing a poem about love; so, I found it difficult. Most other assignment were more specific. I had little to no problem with those, but this one. It kicked my butt. One day, out of the blue, I start thinking about love. The loves I have had. Out of nowhere, surprise pops into my head. When I first fell in love for real, not just a crush, I was surprised it had even happened, and it probably shouldn't have. It was beautiful, new, and exciting, exactly what I had always wanted. So, I started writing, first, just ideas, then I looked down at what I had and saw beautiful and surprise together. I had it. The definition of my first real love. The song practically wrote itself from there. It came straight from my heart. Only problem was I didn't have any music. I tried to make it work with the piano, but that was a bust. Guitar never crossed my mind, probably because I don't play, but since you do…and you already know the song…you might be willing to play for me when I present in class."

"I don't know…maybe."

"Puck-Noah, stop playing. You'll do it for me?"

"Of course, I'll do it for you."

Smiling warmly, "Thanks. And now that that's taken care of, I see we have some things to clear up between the two of us. One, that shallow chick you _used_ to know was me in high school. And two, I wasn't shallow. Anyways, how could someone as shallow as you were – you hear that, I'm giving you the benefit of the doubt – as shallow as you _were_ in high school even fix your lips to call me shallow?"

"It takes one to know one."

"Whatever." She says dismissively. "Three, I changed. I don't know how you haven't seen that by now, but I have. I grew up and found out there was more to life than being a 'diva', which I feel I'm more of now because I'm not trying to be. I just am."

"I won't argue with that."

"Because you can't."

Puck smirks at how easily they fall into their friendly banter. In the past, he never would have admitted that he enjoyed being just friends without any expectations. He was surprised he was capable of the feat given his history, and also this was truly the only woman he had spent any significant time with in the two years he had been in Columbus.

Speaking softly, "I've noticed you have changed."

"Yeah right." Mercedes looks at Puck noting his annoyance.

"I have."

Mercedes shakes her head, as she takes her empty mug to the kitchen placing it in the sink. Returning, she finds Puck sitting on his couch staring at the Christmas tree. Her lips curl into a smile, thinking to herself that she knew he would like the tree in spite of his protests. She saunters over to the couch sitting on the opposite end with one leg pulled underneath her and turned so she is facing Puck. "So what have you noticed?" Drawing his attention to her as she issues him a challenge.

"You're not as mean or aggressive as you used to be. Don't get me wrong, you still know how to instill fear, just differently. I don't think I would be alive right now if I had called Kurt that back then."

"Yep, and you almost died this time around, except Tina and Kurt keep my knife." It was her turn to wink now, and unknown to her it causes something to stir inside her host for the evening. "Okay, that's true but also obvious; anyone could say that."

"They could but you didn't think I had changed when we were first reacquainted, granted that was mostly my fault. So, what do you expect from me. I've told you about myself to make you understand me as I am now, but you haven't really told me much of anything. Why?"

This new Puck or Noah really shocked Mercedes sometimes. "I don't know; I guess there was so much going on, and my life's been pretty simple."

"So simple that the biggest part of who you were isn't so big anymore?"

"What are you talking about?"

"In high school, you were _destined for stardom._ Beyonce` not Kelly Rowland, remember? And now you're neither, and I don't even think you're trying to be. I heard you at that concert; you have a sick voice. Always have. So why would you not pursue anything? It's not a bad thing; it's just so opposite from the you I knew."

Puck's observations had struck a nerve. Not one he knew existed but she wasn't going to let him know. Speaking evenly she responds to Puck. "Firstly, we kind of went incommunicado after the breakup, as I recall, so…the me you knew wasn't even the me that graduated from McKinley."

Puck cringes as she mentions one of his many less admirable moments, while noticing Mercedes doesn't appear to be affected in the least, which at the present disturbs him. "But you were still in glee and singin-"

"I don't know if you ever noticed, but I rarely got solos, and when I did, they were in the form of a duet. Glee, for me, was just something to add to my resume` and something to do to spend time with my friends."

Memories replay themselves in Puck's mind. Sectionals, regionals, glee rehearsals. What wasn't clear before becomes blaringly obvious as realization dons on him; he couldn't believe he hadn't been aware before. "Wow, I'm sorry. You were completely overlooked. Unwarranted, you were like the best singer in that thing."

"Thanks. It's okay. I got over it. It wasn't a big deal. You kind of get used to it."

"Used to what?"

"Oh, nothing really. You know, life. Sometimes it's not fair."

"Is that why you gave up your dreams of being a singer?"

"Gave up my dream? No. I don't look at it like that. I don't know. It just…the desire to be a star or be famous faded as I grew up. I weighed my options, which might I add were plenty, and made a responsible decision choosing college."

"Well that tells me nothing. We all grow up, but it's what happens to us or doesn't happen to us that shape the decisions we make. I think I know that better than most."

"Wow, did that just come from Puckzilla?"

Puck laughs in agreement with Mercedes. "Yeah I know. I almost can't believe it myself. But that's what life does for you. And don't be shocked, it's coming again…insight, it give you perspective always."

A smile emerges across Mercedes' forlorn face; amazement abounding at the single person she had ever found it possible to love whole-heartedly, yet, hate with the same fervor. His growth was astounding, so much so, that being with him almost made her forget what had happened earlier tonight. "You really have changed. You know that?"

Puck positions himself to face Mercedes on the couch meeting her eyes. His eyes were searching hers for truth. Could she really believe that he had changed; did she really believe it? With all he put her through both past and present it was really hard for him to grasp. "Thanks," looking at her intently, "do you mean it?"

"Noah, I wouldn't joke about something as serious. Yes, I mean it."

"Thanks."

They remain frozen eyes fixed on each other, no words being spoken. They had not expected the night to unfold as it had. Both ending up on separate sides of the imaginary fence that built itself the moment they split from each other. Peering into one another's eyes, their minds were racing a mile a minute as their hearts pounded in their chests threatening to escape their owners. Feeling as time was standing still, the two felt the atmosphere closing in around them. Mercedes feels an undeniable heaviness envelop her heart quickening her to break their connection. "Do you want me to help with the dishes and cleaning before I leave?" She looks for a clock and finds one. "It's getting late and I should be getting ready to go home."

"Huh?" It takes a minute before her words catch up with him. "No, no you don't to have to help with that stuff. It's not much. You sure you got to go?"

"Uh, yeah, it's kinda late. I guess I should get ready to go." Getting off of the couch, she picks up her purse, but before she can make it to the door, Puck grabs her elbow stopping her, not actually ready for her to leave.

"What about your tree? Do you want to take home any of the food you brought over?"

Mercedes' heart jumps at the contact of his rough hand on her smooth skin, and it takes every ounce of strength she can conjure to keep her emotions in check. "My tree?" She turns around flashing Puck a smile. "I saw you eyeing it. You like it don't you? You don't want to part with it do you? And don't try to lie; I heard the pitiful tone in your voice. You want me to leave it don't you?" Laughing as she teases him. "But you can't have it. I love my little Christmas tree. I really like looking at it; I usually leave it up until after New Year 's Day. Sorry to hurt your feelings. And I don't want the food; you keep it."

He didn't want the only company he has ever had in his home to leave, but considering how anxious Mercedes was to get away, he realizes there's not much he can do to make her stay and decides to just let it happen. "Okay."

Mercedes smiles at Puck warmly and hands him an ornament box. He grabs the box accidentally grazing her hand. Looking up, Puck sees only the side of her face as she continues removing decorations presumably impervious to their brief closeness. From fierce anger to friendly understanding to complete indifference. Drifting into reflection, Puck absentmindedly pulls some popcorn form the tree and places it in his mouth.

"NOAH!" Mercedes screams startling Puck as she grips him under his chin squeezing the sides of his mouth. "Spit it out." Puck spits the popcorn into the trashcan in the corner. "Why would you put that old, stale, nasty popcorn that's been on a tree I've had for 15 years in your mouth." She says shaking her head.

"What? Nothing was wrong with that popcorn."

"Noah I just told you everything that is wrong with the popcorn."

"It's not like it's going to kill me." And then he thinks of something to yank Mercedes' chain. Joking with her was always fun; she could give as good as she got. "But it is good to know you care so much about my well being." He says tossing her a mischievous grin.

Mercedes rolls her umber eyes. "Fine, eat the popcorn." She comments flatly.

"What's that supposed to mean? That you don't care?" There's a gleam in his eyes as he teases her. "Too late. You can't take it back now. You practically took the popcorn from my mouth with your own hands. You care so just admit it. You care about me." Puck puts on his trademark smirk for Mercedes and adds a wink for good measure. He enjoyed their witty exchanges no matter how lame they could be sometimes. This night had been lacking in that area overall, so, he took it upon himself to brighten the mood oblivious to the apparent problem with the subject matter with which he has chosen to nag Mercedes.

"Care? Whatever. You can think what you want." Her voice was laced with a sliver of defeat; she knew what he was trying to do, she would have done the same had the circumstances been different; unfortunately, this was not what she wanted to joke about and circumstances were not different.

"Awww, come on, you know it's true hot mama." Puck presses trying to goad her into a verbal war that unbeknown to him Mercedes did not want to engage.

"Hot Mama? Please do not call me that." Mercedes makes sure the discontent she is feeling can easily be detected.

"What hot?" Puck joked obviously missing the seriousness with which the young woman who intently packing her tree spoke.

"No, not that. Because we both know I'm hot. The other."

"Mama?" Questioned Puck with unavoidable confusion.

"Yeah, I don't like it."

"Since when? I called you that all the time. It was like our thing."

"I know, your thing, and I never liked it."

"You never told me that."

"I figured I would get around to telling you eventually. I guess I didn't get the opportunity, huh?"

That stung. She and Puck had only recently hashed out their high school relationship, and hearing her speak of it casually with an air of resentment hurt him. The reality being that her feelings towards their time together rested solely on his shoulders. Fighting the urge to succumb to an apology fest, Puck ignores Mercedes' unintentional or intentional dig at him. He owes her that much. "I guess not."

The room falls quiet as they pack the final remnants of their Christmas holiday into the oversized box that housed everything Mercedes had brought to Puck's studio apartment.

Mercedes takes the box in her hands only to have Noah place his hand on the box at the same time. Sensing a refute from her open mouth and raised brow, he simply gives the stubborn woman a stern glare as if to say, _I'm carrying this box to the car so just shut up for once. _She grudgingly concedes, walking ahead of the man she used to think would always be a boy. They continue blanketed in silence for a few minutes, which to them are dragging out mercilessly until Puck finally summons the courage to voice the ruminations that had been circling his mind since they last shared words.

"Why didn't you like it?"

His voice breaks into her contemplation pulling her attention to him. "Like what?"

Not wanting to reiterate the term of endearment he had been accustomed to calling his ex-girlfriend over 5 years ago for fear of agitating her further, he carefully words his next statement. "You know, what I used to call you. Why didn't you like it, or tell me you didn't like it – you don't have to answer…if you don't want to-"

"I don't know why I didn't say anything. Maybe because I was 16 or you were boyfriend number one. I don't know. You seemed to like saying it; so, I let you say it. I was only going to tolerate it for so long; you definitely would have found out in time."

The edginess emanating from Mercedes' words were not missed. Puck couldn't help feeling as if he was perpetually inserting his foot into his mouth. Each question irked Mercedes, and he didn't know why. Since he rejected her by the window, he had noticed Mercedes' countenance change gradually over the course of the night. Initially she was unmoved, but now she was something different entirely. He couldn't determine what had caused such a reaction in her, whether it was latent embarrassment, anger, hurt, or fatigue because before she didn't seem to care. He didn't know. This plagued him because he had always been able to read Mercedes; however, tonight she wasn't making it easy for him. One thing he was sure of was that his recent line of questioning was not making things better; also, he wasn't getting the answers he was looking for, if any at all. Thus, he concludes that he will continue probing. He seizes the chance as they wait for the traffic sing to tell them to cross the street.

"I know you probably feel like I'm interviewing you or something, but I don't know a lot about who you you've become. By no fault of my own. And as we have established, you are purposely withholding personal information about yourself from me because your life is so _simple_. So I'm asking."

As Mercedes replies, she doesn't even steal one glance in Puck's direction, while they cross the street, for fear of betraying any emotion that may present itself.

"Okay, shoot." Giving in only to avoid confrontation.

"Why did you change?"

Mercedes raises a confused eyebrow.

"I mean, the attitude and, God I hate to say it out loud, I hate how gay it sounds," speaking quickly to ward off any offence he may have induced, "you know what I mean. I don't mean anything by it." He pauses chancing a glance at Mercedes who seems to be okay. "What happened to your _diva_ in your face, larger than life personality? You seem so toned down now."

"It's not who I _wanted_ to be."

This was not how she was supposed to answer him. Noah had opened up to Mercedes, and hoped for the same in return. She was being difficult, but he wasn't about to give up.

"Not who you wanted to be. I can understand that. _I guess. _It doesn't have anything to do with you giving up on being a singer does it?"

"I've told you already why I'm not pursuing a career as a singer. It was a choice." She answers becoming exasperated with the _interview. _

"But you never said _exactly _why you made that choice."

"I wanted to go to college."

"Why? Why college over your childhood dream?" Puck presses getting frustrated.

"Your redundancy is becoming embarrassing. Either you are not hearing me correctly or not comprehending. It wasn't my dream to give up. I _**chose**_ college because I wanted to."

Hearing the resolve in Mercedes' tone and fearing he may be pushing too hard, he decides to let that subject die again. She was holding back, not being completely open or honest with him. He didn't need to be able to read her to know that, no matter how evasive and sheltered she had been for the past few hours. It puzzled Noah; he didn't know why she was being this way. At times, it seemed like they were getting along fine, jovial even, then there were those times interspersed between friendlier moments where she was distant, or curt. There was clearly a wall up, and he kept running right into it. He had thought they were advancing, letting the past go, making amends. He revealed to her what he had never spoken of with anyone else about his father; it felt natural for him to do so. They were connecting revisiting the friendship that forged between them during their whirlwind romance. He didn't necessarily expect her to do the same, but a large part of him wanted the sentiment returned, almost thought it was implicit. However, he doubted that she would tell him her real age if asked, considering her aversion to his inquiries thus far. These questions weren't soul searching; he just wanted to know simple things, such as why she forfeited fame he was sure she was more than capable of having. She wasn't answering him candidly, and it baffled him. She was visibly upset at this point, and not wanting to enrage her, he granted her a minor concession.

Defeated Puck changes the subject, but not necessarily to a lesser one.

"Do you wish you went home to spend the holidays with your family?"

"Uh, no, I didn't want to go home." Mercedes answers shortly.

"Why not don't you miss them?"

"I do. I just didn't want to deal with them this year."

Feeling like he's making progress, he continues this line of questioning. "Are they hard on you?"

"You could say that."

Then comes the wall of ambiguity. "Families can be like that sometimes. It just means they love you and want to see you happy." Puck didn't really know what to say. She wasn't giving him anything to go on, but he figured he could give her some advice that was a staple when dealing with parents.

A tired smile plays across Mercedes' face. "I know." She says speaking more to herself than the guy walking beside her. "I still can't believe how insightful you have become."

"Me either."

Finally venturing a glimpse at Puck, their eyes immediately meet, and they instantly burst into laughter.

"I'm glad you came Mama – I'm sorry – forget I said that. I mean Mercedes."

"It's okay. Me too."

"Maybe we could do this again sometime, you know, hang out."

"Yeah, I guess we can do that."

Puck places the box in the back of Mercedes' vehicle with a smile on his face. He closes the trunk door and walks Mercedes to her car door. "I guess I'll talk to you later."

"Yeah." Mercedes hugs Puck. "Merry Christmas Noah."

Puck feels her warm breath on his neck causing his arms to involuntarily tighten the hug. "Merry Christmas to you too Mercedes."

Noticing that their embrace has lasted longer than she intended, she pulls away bearing a labored smile. "Bye, Noah."

"By, Mercedes."

Puck closes her door giving her a final wave as she cranks up and drives away.

Walking into his apartment, the night's occurrences immediately replay over in his mind. Upon opening the door to his apartment, Puck is accosted with her scent, making him realize that the emptiness that he has become accustomed to is no longer there. Filled with the aroma of magnolia blossoms and hints of vanilla assaulting his nasal passages, he finds himself lost in thought about his _ex._


	12. Past Regrets

**Sorry for the wait to those of you that are still with me. I know it's been like a year, but this chapter was killing and I just found it incredibly hard to write. I knew this chapter could be either a really good chapter or horrible one. So I kept working on it in between school and stuff to get it right. I think I did. Hope you enjoy.**

**Disclaimer (haven't done this in a while): I own nothing that belongs to the creators and owners of glee. Everything else though I take full responsibility for. **

Chapter 12

It was barely a kiss. More akin to lips merely touching, yet, it opened the floodgates that she desperately wanted to remain closed. She wanted to forget her love for the boy who not only broke her heart, but also reaffirmed and solidified every insecurity that threatened her adolescent sanity. She terribly wished to get over it. The moment her eyes met his she knew she wouldn't stop the emotions that incited a craving for his touch. The only touch she had ever wanted, the hurt he caused her notwithstanding. She was to be a slave to the moment. A moment he purposefully stole from her. She wanted him consummately, and looking into his eyes, she knew he knew it. There was a cognizance in his gaze that abruptly gave way to compunction. Contrition that she now shared. She had invited him in freely only to have him renounce her for the second time in her life, and for a split second, she was the 16-year-old girl lying on the couch crying as he ran out of the front door never to look back. Only for a second, because that weak little girl was no more, she was a strong woman that didn't fall apart because she wasn't pretty enough or thin enough. Now, she held her head high and put on a smile not surrendering to her melancholy, especially for someone who was always a problem and never a solution. She adamantly refused to betray any emotion other than calm indifference.

He would not have the privilege of apologizing for dashing her hopes, yet again, nor knowing he had broken her heart only a little less this time around. Therefore, she carried on as if nothing happened, as if she felt nothing. He didn't need to know. No matter how averse to her love for him she was, there was always an awareness of its presence, before she allowed herself to be sucked into his magnetic force field, and even before she permitted her lips to touch his. She was aware of it. At Café Lorno, his voice reacquainted her love with her heart, and everything came rushing back to the surface. She felt his voice stroke her heart with its melody reminding her that she had loved him before she met him, even as a teenager. Regardless of how fervent her love burned for him, she was determined to extinguish the flames engulfing her heart. Their love would not be despite how destined it seemed. She could not love him without prospect of that love being returned equally. She gathered all the affection and desire stirring in her being for the love of her life, placed it in a chest, welded it shout, and buried it in the depths of her heart to preserve her sanity and prevent it from murdering her soul. She would grin, laugh, and smile all to keep him at bay. Her heart was closed to him. She was closed to him.

The first time he kissed her, they were both teenagers. He was intrigued. She was beautiful, smart, and funny. For the life of him, he didn't know why she was giving him the time of day, while at the same time his ego knew she couldn't resist him, which she attempted fruitlessly. His youthful lips rushed hers feverishly trying to devour the young girl, but upon contact, his lips to her supple lips, he melted. His rough, callous mannerisms gave way to a side of him he had denied for so long. His intentions altered; he no longer wanted to prove to her how good he was, but to connect with her. It was her first time, and in a way, it was his as well. There was emotion floating around inside of him that he couldn't explain which only served to deepen and intensify that kiss. He kissed her softly and intrusively until they melded together and there was only the two of them as one. She tasted of fruity hard candy with a hint of vanilla. Nothing like what he thought, and yet, everything he wanted and better. His senses were alive, the way she smelled, felt in his arms, the taste that consumed his taste buds, her beautiful face; it was all a part of him. Embedded securely into the crevices of his mind, and it all came racing to the edge of his subconscious barging into his conscious the moment her canorous voice danced over the chords of his guitar. His eyes were opened as they met hers, entrancing him; seducing him with their hunger, bidding him come hither unabashedly, and his legs answered for him leading him to her, moved by a will all their own.

Her warm brown irises searing into his, entrapping him, igniting passion and curious fascinations. Leaning into her, he was bombarded with a strong fragrance. Vanilla. Flesh to flesh; he grazes her lips with his. It lasted only seconds possibly shorter, but the memory of soft supple lips would be tattooed on the walls of his mind forever. Though hardly a kiss, it emblazoned and burned creating confusion. Pulling away from her, he needed clarity, something to hold on to. Yet, there was only yearning, beckoning for more. More of what he wasn't sure he should give. It wasn't what she wanted. It couldn't be. Remorsefully, he backed away. This wasn't supposed to happen, not then and definitely not now. It wouldn't end well. It never ended well. He didn't even know why he had done it. Why, in that instant, he had crossed the line that would rekindle past heartache reminded of disappointment. He had caused his fair share of blunders, especially to the woman that had stood on the receiving end of his foolish actions, and he didn't want to add to that list. Burdened by the hurt he has induced, past and present, regret captivates him, washes over him crying to be manifested verbally. He wanted to repent of his indiscretions. Atone for his blatant disregard for her person. For being an immature teenager who didn't know how to express the disorientation associated with being in her company that was oblivious to the inner workings of his own darkened heart. A heart clouded by a father that couldn't love him and the defeated gaze in his mother's eyes. He couldn't do that to her. Not when his heart and mind were in complete anarchy.

It was wrong. All wrong. He didn't want to dismiss his actions, only rectify. But something happened and before he had the opportunity for absolution, the longing disappears as Jekyll meets Hyde. She left him, crossed the street, and ran around a corner. She was gone. Did he want to chase her? Of that, he was conflicted. If he lets her go, he doesn't have to face whatever it was that compelled him to invade her personal space. While, on the one hand, if he stops her he would have to face the lurching of his stomach at the mention of her name or why she drifted into his dreams. Given the way out, he took it; although, it didn't seem like the right road to take. However, it was easy, and easy was always his first choice, even if easy didn't always work out the way he expected it.

Sitting in the parking lot in front of her dorm, Mercedes drops her head onto the steering wheel utterly overwhelmed. This Christmas had been one to forget, yet, she knew she would never be able to do that. And perched in her car, she didn't need to question why. It had been ingrained even when she promised herself that she wasn't going to speak to him ever again, but deep down inside it remained. She especially thought that it could be a reality during the kiss. It was definitely there then. The hope was always there, holding out for him. Her heart never gave up on the dream that he would come around, and be hers that he would love her, however foolish that may have been. The heart that beat within her chest wanted him uncontrovertibly when she forbade it to let go of the love it clung to for him, but she was prisoner to aspiration, and there was nothing she could do to battle her heart, so it won. Mercedes wanted Noah "Puck" Puckerman in her future. Unfortunately, the one who held the power to grant her heart's desire snatched it away on Christmas day.

The moon shines through the windshield, illuminating the soft features of her face as she surveys the clear night sky. It is gone; her hope has evaporated drifted off into the atmosphere. Although it hurt, she accepts it. She wouldn't dwell or mope over what couldn't be any longer. Life was too short for that and it would waste the good looks with which God had blessed her. There would be other guys. Like him? Perhaps not, but there would be others, and she wasn't going to shut them out any longer. However, tonight she was entitled to bemoan, just a little. Dragging herself from the car, Mercedes sulks to her trunk retrieving her Christmas tree.

With heaviness of heart, she trudges to her room thinking the night over and trying to reconcile with what is to be or, in her opinion never to be. Turning the key in the lock, she opens the door to her and Tina's dorm room. The place she has called home for the past couple of years with the girl that has become just as close to her as Kurt is. Stepping inside the room warmth cloaks her. The friendship forged in this room hugs her welcomes her home soothing her distressed mind.

Their suite was spacious, yet cozy. Allotting for their different styles, they divided the room down the middle with their beds located directly across the other, the only similarity between the two sides. Tina had grown and transformed almost as much as Mercedes. You wouldn't find stereotypical Goth decor. There were references because deep inside there are still remnants of that dark Asian from high school. The constant color scheme of the room being raven black gave that away, but there were also luminous accents, much like the blue streak she continues to wear in her hair. A black comforter lay on top of magenta sheets, and her walls were covered in posters of art from Picasso's blue period as well as Andy Warhol. Tina was expressive, and her side of the suite did a great job of telling the story that belonged to only her. The same could be said for Mercedes.

An expansive bookshelf lined a third of Mercedes' wall filled with horror, suspense, mystery, romance, poetry, and most classics. You name it Mercedes read it. She was an indiscriminate reader, had been since she was able to do so. By the time she was in 9th grade, she had Emerson, Shakespeare, and Thoreau under her belt, and even dabbled in writing herself. Mostly poetry and short stories. A secret she never told anyone until Tina ran across one her compositions filled with poems during freshman year. At a glance, one would speculate that Mercedes' side belonged to a boring nerd. In a way that was true, she was a nerd just not the least bit boring. The colors were mostly neutral, mostly chocolates and earth tones. The one exception she couldn't do without was her purple comforter that stood out against her rich coffee sheets. Aside from the mahogany bookshelf, the only other accessories are her desk, computer, and piano she had gotten on her 17th birthday from her parents. They thought she needed to know how to produce her own music once they found out that their daughter had been writing songs since she was 14. It was one of her most prized possessions, and it took her no time to learn. She was practically a pro after playing for a few years. This was almost an exact replica of her bedroom during her high school years. Mercedes wasn't the person everyone saw at McKinley; she was never really who she portrayed to everyone.

In high school, Mercedes was boisterous and abrasive. In your face would best describe her temperament. It was her thing. Let no one get over on you, be the first to throw the punch. Everything was about her; she was the best and that was that. For the most part, her attitude and defensive stance were embedded in her. They were a part of her; however, they were not intrinsic. It all began as a ruse, a façade to protect her from the hurt inflicted upon her as a chubby quiet child. When she entered freshman year in high school she adopted a persona. Mercedes "Diva" Jones. "Miss Jones" was a beast. She was confidence personified; it was expressed in every facet of her being, in the way she sang, in the way she dressed, in the way she spoke. "Diva" Jones, as she often referred to herself, commanded attention, sometimes not the attention she wanted. With a personality like "Miss Jones," she garnered confrontation, but also there was respect. Whether from fear or acceptance it didn't matter to her because she had respect that she otherwise would not have been able to obtain, if she were to be herself. Who she was born to be. Who Mercedes Jones was and who she pretended to be were in stark contrast with each other.

Quiet contemplative, brilliant would describe the real adolescent Mercedes. The person she never showed to anyone, save maybe Kurt on occasion. Plagued by childhood memories she was afraid to allow that person to be known. The real Mercedes was synonymous with compliance. She didn't stand up for herself and this was the first of many things she would change. This, she knew, had to be, things were harder in high school, and if she couldn't or wouldn't defend herself, she wouldn't last; she would crumble under the pressure. Falling prey without putting up a valiant effort was not an option, and it worked for her. More than most girls didn't dare to try her, and the guys believed the rumors of her carrying razor blades in her hair, which was completely fallacious. She carried a box cutter in her sneaker. Not that she intended to cut anyone, unless she felt truly threatened.

Most changes took her some time to adjust to; she had to virtually abandon herself. However, one of the easier transformations to embrace was going from a frumpy simpleton to a chic ghetto-fabulous fashonista. Mercedes had many cousins that were more than willing to help her with this task. They had been begging her for years to update her look, so, when she asked for their help; they were more than willing to help her with their expertise. And being the creative soul she was and is, she easily grasped the concept of fashion and immersed herself into it making it her own. Her choice of vibrant multihued colors served multiple purposes. One, it made her stand out; she couldn't disappear into the background which she had a tendency to do, and she didn't need the temptation of reverting back to her old self. Two, they were fun to wear and made her feel happier. When she looked in the mirror, she was pleased with what she saw. For once, she didn't feel ugly and fat. Mercedes loved her new look. Three, it was a major confidence booster, which served dual purposes for her. She needed that confidence to follow through with her transformation. That confidence spurred the personality shift that she needed to make the new her believable. The new Mercedes was simple and even shallow at times. She was borderline selfish and needed things to be about her. Her diva mentality was a mask forged from necessity. Being shallow, self-centered, and confrontational sheltered her more sensitive reserved quiet side, protecting her from the hurt that could have been incurred had she not been "Miss Jones" because Mercedes Jones was a nerd and they got it worse than most. And being a full-figured nerd would have been doubly worse. As "Miss Diva" she was seen but for totally different reasons than she was used too. Her aloof, tough-as-nails personality hid the hurt she didn't want anyone to see. The hurt from having to be invisible and from being lonely and inadequate. All of that was buried under her new image. It was better some hated or disliked her for being someone she really wasn't than for who she really was.

Mercedes closes the door behind her, falling back on the door in a huff. She releases a sigh that carries with it the tension and disappointment of the night. A rogue tear threatens to escape her eye, but she didn't cry in front of him and she _would not_ permit herself to shed one tear in his absence. She closes her eyes tight forcing back the tears. She stands there composing herself for what seems like forever. She couldn't be doing this again over Noah, but here she was. When she finally opens her eyes, the only thing on her mind is to find a place to put the Christmas tree. The perfect spot is on a small table on Tina's side near an outlet. She places the tree onto the table and begins decorating it with unshed tears glistening in her eyes.

Looking around his home, Noah decides to wash away the remnants of the troubling, though revealing, evening he recently shared with Mercedes. He runs warm water into his kitchen sink, bidding the white noise of his surroundings to enshroud him, granting his mind the interruption needed to seek out the only woman with whom he has ever experienced true intimacy, and possibly answer those questions raised.

The dilemma at the forefront of existing problems is the elusive persona Mercedes adopted. Shortly after kissing her, something clicked in her as if the lights were snuffed out. She became impossible to read and shut off in an instant. Even if Noah wanted to expound upon what was meant by the action of his lips touching hers, he had an inclination that it would be futile. Puck had pulled her in and pushed her out simultaneously, and he didn't know why he'd done either. Perhaps, he was intrigued by the new Mercedes, who regardless of what she thought; he had noticed a wealth of change, which suited her in his opinion. Although she had become an entirely different person, she retained the essence of who she was. Was Noah fond of her distant attitude and affinity to erect defensive walls? No, yet, it further intensified her allure. An allure that had always existed. However, more than anything else he was feeling, confusion stood front and center. He didn't understand her blank expressions and curt responses. The Mercedes he knew, or thought he knew, would have told him how she felt with every bit of emotion playing across her face and pouring from her eyes. Maybe she was right. Maybe he didn't know her at all. Thinking about it now, the notion wasn't farfetched. Because Noah definitely doesn't know her as she is today, not that she was making the task easy. Every attempt had been thwarted and only the bare minimum divulged.

Noah shakes his head to clear his mind of the unsettling thoughts. _There must be something I'm missing. _

Plunging into the crevices of his mental library, shock temporarily seizes Noah at the image he has conjured. A pre-adolescent cherubic face seeps into his mind's eye younger than he was aware that he had know her to be, possibly of junior high age right before entering high school. The features of her face are the same soft incarnations he remembers from high school; yet, fundamentally an alteration exists in her overall appearance. It was lacking something that made her, her. The Mercedes he dated for that fleeting moment and the one plaguing his mind tonight. Whatever it was, it had little to do with either Mercedes he had known.

Closing his eyes, the gentle aroma of vanilla colors Noah's subconscious. Warm sienna irises hypnotize him, as irresistibly plump lips summon him, while velvety chocolate skin taunts his fingers. _She has definitely changed. _He noticed. It was impossible to ignore. Puck may not have been present for the transformation in high school; in fact, he wasn't around himself much those days, with all the drinking, for that matter. Not that it was a healthy choice to pursue the company of Mercedes Jones after the disintegration of their fledgling relationship. Did he want to? Noah wanted desperately to be near her; she wouldn't believe him if he told her, but he did, if only to explain himself. But he knew Mercedes, the spitfire she was, would have severed his manhood from his body in front of an audience and shoved it in his mouth.

This fire is what drew him toward her. Sadly for him, initially the popularity she had procured and his covetousness forced him to chase her. Yet, she shunned him, but that didn't last long. Once he started talking to her, due to her obstinance it took him a few tries to get her to listen, her audacity, strength, liveliness, and sense of pride reeled him in. His ego recognized these attributes to be reminiscent of those he boasted of himself, and he relished it. Miss Jones, as she referred to herself, challenged his antics, but he wasn't one to cower.

After some time of observing her closely without the eyes of others and their preconceived notions planted in his head, he saw her beauty. Puck couldn't fathom why he hadn't been mindful of this before. Surely if he had, it wouldn't have taken for her to become a cheerio for him to have made her his, even though he knew it wouldn't have worked because of their statuses. Mercedes not only had outward beauty that few seemed to acknowledge, she also had the most beautiful soul. Puck could talk to her unlike his attempts with Quinn and definitely Santana. They were interested in only one thing. The 'sex shark.' Too afraid to share, he didn't pour out his soul laying his deepest darkest secrets on the table to be judged, as he had easily done tonight; Puck wouldn't do that. Comfort was chanced upon by simply talking to her. Mercedes' melodic voice calmed the animal inside of him. Offered him peace he gladly accepted. Especially, when he wanted to kill someone for taking his little girl away from him. She reassured him constantly that he and Quinn had made the best decision for their daughter. _I needed you to quiet the storm that haunted me for all those years I was alone. _It was only a week, and somehow it was the best week he has ever had since. Haplessly, he couldn't admit it to himself at the time.

Their relationship proved a pleasant deviation from the norm. Maybe because it was an actual relationship. In addition to its legitimacy, the attraction was a departure from the usual. The lure wasn't entirely physical. Of course he was attracted to Mercedes, she was, and still is, sexy and he'd hit anyone who didn't agree. The thing with her, however, was more than that. Talking to her, he found was more intimate than any sexual act he had ever had and would ever have until their pseudo-kiss tonight. All of that doesn't negate the fact that making out with Mercedes was the best; it just wasn't paramount for him at that time, with her. They were forging something deeper. Puck was learning to be her shoulder, and she unconsciously became his rock. He didn't understand how much he needed that as a stupid teenager until it was gone. If he had been smarter or less a coward, he wouldn't have let her withdraw from him so easily. When he was with her he was better. Alas, stupidity and ignorance prevails in adolescence.

Drifting from his memories Noah sees that he has finished washing the dishes. Checking the clock over the sink, he realizes it's not nearly as late as he thought. But he has nothing to do; had he had a better means of income he could play videogames on his computer or videogame console, but with his meager earnings he hasn't had the purchasing power to obtain such joys of entertainment. Eying his guitar propped on his couch, his nose wrinkles in distaste; the mood to pluck at the strings escapes him. Options limited, Noah concludes that it wouldn't kill him to dry the dishes he's piled into the drainer. Save him sometime tomorrow.

Futilely, he struggles to keep his thoughts of Mercedes contained; it is doing him no good to think about her, as it were, unbidden she persistently creeps into his thoughts followed by questions he doesn't know if he wants to answer.

Since their fortuitous encounter outside of Lorno, one that has burgeoned into a new friendship, Puck felt a compulsion to her, and now finds himself pondering the provenance of said attraction. Could it just be old emotions running amuck? Or is it something new altogether? What he does know is that from the moment he peered into her face that he was not going to let her disappear from his life without an opportunity to show her who he's become. There was a desire to prove to her, more so than anyone else, that he was no longer that troubled teen with no concern for anyone but himself. That's why he fervently sought redemption for his misstep. Noah wanted a chance to get to erase all her previous knowledge of him with better new ones. He wanted to get to know her. Who she is now because the moment he bumped into her he knew that she wasn't the girl he'd ran out on in high school.

In his limited time with Mercedes, he's become cognizant of the changes she's undergone. She's no longer the young girl from before; her new look alerted Noah of that fact. Appearance altered a great deal, Mercedes is still sexy but less flamboyant. Her style of dress allows her true beauty to shine. Puck remembers seeing her the night of his first official performance and thinking "momma looks grown woman hot"; he can't call to mind what she wore because his attention hadn't been averted by gaudy garments. There was an overall vibe that was given off. Not to mention her face was glowing. _Still just as beautiful as I remember it. _

It is apparent to Noah that Mercedes has made some amendments, but he could see despite the modifications she remains the same person he had been in deep like, or had strong feelings for, or maybe even loved is still at the core of who she is. The same person for whom the feelings he's harbored could only be equated with how strongly he feels for Beth.

In high school, Mercedes had been similar to him in a way that he was able to grasp. They had analogous temperaments, quick to retaliate and worry about the consequences later. Now, there is a marked digression. Fire blazes within her, but she's ascertained restraint. Mercedes retains her knack for confrontation, although, understanding that to accomplish anything losing her cool is not an option has made her more effective. If at all possible, her carefully chosen barbs are more biting than he remembers. The Mercedes he's recently been reacquainted with is a woman. A confident, secure, subdued, mature, funny, interesting woman. She was less in a manner of speaking, yes, but so much more.

It astounded him to see her more understated in dress and her brassy attitude tamed. The diva from high school whose idea of a career plan was to become R&B's next big thing was no longer. Replaced with a psychology, music comp double major student that doesn't seem interested in following her childhood dream whatsoever. Sure, Mercedes is in the music department choir, but singing isn't her life anymore. She doesn't even vie for the solos, from what she said. It surprises him that she rarely spoke of singing tonight, instead lighting up when she mentioned song writing. The talks they shared while dating were filled with grandiose imaginations of her rise to fame. Puck always thought it endearing that she had such dreams. That she was full of enough hope for the both of them. Elaborating in detail, on multiple occasions, about her love for singing and her eagerness to do it the rest of her life. Noah chuckles recalling her say one day long ago, 'I'm going to be lead vocal in the heavenly choir when I die.' Singing was an integral part of teenage Mercedes. The smile he's wearing as he dries the last dish quickly dissipates, his eyebrows furrowing deeply with recollection of her statements tonight of how she had changed her mind about being a world renown music artist, and that this had been discovered before high school graduation.

He wouldn't know; he couldn't have known. By the time they graduated, she had long eliminated him from her life, not bothering to remotely sneer in his direction immediately after he broke her heart. Things never work out the way he wanted. Puck figures fate has it out for him because if given the occasion, the absence of Mercedes from his life would never have happened. Noah attempted to rectify his misdeeds. An apology belonged to her, and he had every intention to deliver it to her, which unfortunately happened five years too late. For her to be in his life in any capacity, be it friend or a mere association, he needed to make amends, but his try at atonement was aborted immediately after conception with a glance from the wronged party. He'd ruined any chance of penance and didn't hear her voice directed towards him for five ugly years.

So, no, he didn't know much about today's Mercedes. However, his goal is currently to make up for this. Unfortunately, she'd shut down halting his efforts of a deeper understanding of her; his simple goal thwarted. And it was all his fault. Thankfully for him, this time around she is willing to continue to be his friend his repeated offenses notwithstanding.

Tonight the young Ms. Jones told Noah she observed that he had changed. Although it felt great to hear the words coming from her mouth, the feeling was short lived. Unforeseen , he found it lacking. The sentiment was hollow, not as filling as he once believe those words would be. Mulling over the circumstances in his mind, he couldn't decipher if she said it to appease him or if she truly meant it, even though she had verbally confirmed the later. He wasn't to know. Mind reading was not a talent of his. Possibly it fell on deaf ears because with his actions he felt unworthy of the statement.

Puck wasn't blind; he knew he'd messed up the moment his lips rescinded from hers and ventured to look into her wary eyes. It was as if he was rendered a second chance only to squander it by replicating the identical spineless deeds that pushed her out of his life the first time.

Same stars, same play, different stage, different time period. Epilogue differs marginally. Only an imbecile can perpetuate the same odious acts nescient that the results will always be the same.

As a teenager Puck was a ball of confusion. His life spiraling downward consistently. Every time he thought he was catching a grip, he would slip, losing it. Something breaking his shaky focus throwing him into a tailspin. The one point in his life where he thought he had finally boarded a wagon that he wouldn't easily fall off of was when he decided to give Mercedes a real shot. Her positivity was rubbing off on him causing him to _want _to think differently, to be better. For her. Things were going great. She turned out to be perfect. She was tough as nails and would stand toe to toe with him forcing him to renege on his more than likely ignorant views. For a short while, she was his girl. His 'hot momma.' His anchor. All of that disintegrated into ashes feverishly caught in the wind leaving him with nothing. In one instance, it was all gone.

They had been dating a week. A windfall of a week if you asked him. Puck felt the beginnings of something more brewing between them, but he was hesitant of such. Still he became her first kiss and love. Everything was happening way too fast. He was finding himself enraptured with her. All of her. It was near consuming threatening to take him over. This thing that was unfolding within Puck climaxed on the last day that he would allow himself to be with her romantically. Them being together was becoming too much, but he wasn't fully aware of that until that day.

Her parents were gone for the weekend. Mercedes wanted him over for dinner and a movie. Puck was super psyched. Some alone time with his girl without parents always sounded like fun to him. Upon entering his girlfriend's home, he could feel it in the air, foreboding. He also noted the mischievous glint in Mercedes' oak eyes that told him she had something up her sleeve other than a simple dinner and movie. She planned to take advantage of the situation, and Puck couldn't lie to himself, he wouldn't push her away once they started. After all, he was only a teenage boy. Dinner had been cooked for him. Never had he felt so important, she had a way of doing that. And it only fueled the smoldering embers within. Maybe that was her plan. Puck knew she'd been plotting something in her pretty little head, yet, he wasn't sure how far she was willing to go. They had spoken of her virginity once and very briefly. Mercedes was open and honest willing to discuss the matter at length; however, Puck felt the conversation unnecessary and extremely uncomfortable. Sex just happened according to him; the discussion could happen later if need be, which he would purposely avoid at all cost. But for her, he endured the chat. Also, Mercedes had rejected him from the beginning after he tried repeatedly to get in her pants, but towards the end things were different. Sex with Mercedes would be different. Because maybe he was becoming different.

The movie started, and shortly after the opening credits he was flush against Mercedes on the couch, horizontal. All rationale had flown from his mind the moment she placed her enticing lips on his neck. Time fast forwarded. They went from simple making out to hot and heavy in a matter of a few accelerated minutes. His hands were exploring her body as were hers, his until her journey lead her far too south for his liking. Once he felt her tug on the buckle of his belt, Puck sobered. She was going to go all the way. His girl wanted him to be her first. Thoughts were surging through his mind rapidly. Too quickly for him to process. The only thing he could do, the only thing to do was to stop her. She couldn't want this from him. This would mean too much to her. To him? He didn't know, didn't want to know.

Prior to that moment, Puck could feel the magnitude of Mercedes' feelings toward him, but the fact that she wanted to give herself to him in that way quantified them. She was in love with him. He know enough to know that she would offer herself for nothing less. However, he couldn't be the 'one.' Coming to his senses, he instantly pulled away from her giving them some distance. Mercedes sounded hurt when she questioned his actions. The emotion in her voice potent enough to make his ears bleed, and as much as he wanted to give into her and tell her nothing was wrong; he wouldn't risk it. Puck did what he thought he should do. Break it off. That's when he knew what he was feeling for Mercedes could have been love, but he wouldn't bet a penny on the certainty of it. And even if he could he wasn't ready. He knew his love for her would not be good enough or even good for her. He was no good for her. Puck didn't think he knew how to love a person like his girl, the way that she deserved. So, he let her go.

Just as he had done tonight.

Puck had committed the same mistake twice. Only this time, the offence was a misdemeanor. She hadn't exiled him from her life entirely as before, just emotionally. He wouldn't be allowed to reach beyond the surface to the hidden Mercedes. But a little was better than nothing at all, and he was willing to accept that.

As a teen, Puck was afraid to love, afraid of hurting Mercedes. He didn't know that by denying her what little he had to give he was doing just that. He also forgot to factor in his lot in all of this.

As a man, Noah was ignorant of his feelings for the beautiful black girl that had embedded herself in his heart. With the lack of knowledge, he watched as she escaped him once again. Previously, he didn't know what he was giving up; he was only a child and that road deceptively seems easier. Now, with experience and the gift of the present, he is well aware of the repercussions of his actions. And just as his first offence had culled to the forefront what lay in the recesses of his heart, this Christmas mistake had brought along with it a similar revelation. Though he may have ignored what was stabbing him in his heart and dancing within his soul in the past, he is certain he cannot any longer.

Resting on her bed, Mercedes gazes at the finished Christmas tree. Puck wasn't wrong when he said the tree was just barely passing. Without all the pomp and circumstance, the tree was nothing more than a few puny metal limbs with a sparse splattering of synthetic leaves. But, now, adorned with the gamut of ornaments in place, it is more attractive. It seems fuller. Complete. That's how it's supposed to be. The ornaments mean nothing without the tree, and the tree is empty without the ornaments. However, because her tree didn't fit the mold of traditional trees it would always be criticized or overlooked until it was embellished.

Reflecting on her life's journey, Mercedes sees why she loves the little tree so much. It mirrors her past. Thinking on her life thus far, Mercedes draws herself a warm bath. Getting into the hot water she lets these thoughts have free range.

Things have always had an air of difficulty about them, especially early in her life. From the bullying to the life altering changes. Her struggle was unending. Even with all the adjustments she made, Mercedes found that she would always have hurdles to jump. The breaking point came after her stint with Puck, and less than a year later having mountains of drama involving the glee club erupt around her. Whether all her fault or a combination of whom she had become and discriminations imposed upon her, she didn't know. But she didn't care. The young girl had missed herself. After taking a thorough inventory of her life, Mercedes concluded that things had to change, or better yet, she didn't want to continue being the person she'd become. She was tired of being who she thought people wanted her to be. She was tired of what they expected from her, a mindless shallow diva. This wasn't who she was underneath it all. Simply put, she didn't want to pretend anymore. It wasn't like it was making things easier for her.

There were aspects of her persona that she embraced. She had become more confident and self assured than she'd ever been in her life. Being a teenager in high school, she had loved her new dress code and would be hard pressed to abandon it entirely. It was _her_ style and she loved it. Along with this confidence came positive thinking. She learned that just by thinking happy or believing in her happy it could and would manifest in her. Before she didn't have that. Now that she did, she wasn't going to let that go. For once she had friends. Friends she loved dearly that loved her equally in return. Yet, she missed being calm and collected to a extent. Would her status as a doormat be reclaimed? No. But she didn't have to keep being excessively defensive constantly. Mercedes wanted to read and write and not be 'the diva' all the time. In the beginning, the high school transformation had been mandatory; she would not have survived otherwise. She was who she needed to be. As she aged and matured, the teenage Mercedes evolved into who she wanted to be, even if part of it seem to be forced on her.

The now adult Mercedes gets out of the bathtub, drains the water, and goes to her room to dress for the night. As she dries, lotions, and dresses, she permits her mind to drift further. From her youth, Mercedes had sung in the church choir, and she was good. This wasn't something she was telling herself. Everyone that heard her gifted voice told her that. One of the only children asked to join the adult choir by the age of five. When she'd reached seven she was given her first solo. Mercedes had obvious talent, and the consensus agreed. That was until she joined glee. In glee, she was never good enough. Glee gradually robbed the bit of her that thought she could. Could become a world famous singer. Could stand with the greats and hold her own despite her physical shortcomings. Compounded upon her glee troubles, being bombarded with the fact that even to the person she loved she wasn't good enough made it impossible for her to keep all of the dissenting from seeping into her psyche. They had sealed their stamp of disapproval on her, and she found it terribly hard not to buy into it at least a little. So, her love for the spotlight dwindled, if her teacher didn't think she had what it took, did she? But she didn't let this kill her. She could adapt and her options weren't limited. Her love for music and singing was channeled into writing. Not the little stories she'd made up, but into songs. She had gone through enough in her short years on this earth to fill a million books. All she had to do was translate this to lyrics. She knew music, could play the piano, she wrote poetry, all of these things came together for her. Mercedes dove into writing and composing. No one ever said that she couldn't be a famous songwriter or composer. Stardom wasn't a necessity. She didn't need to be seen or famous anymore. She was happy with herself and that's all that mattered. If it were to happen she would welcome it, but she would not seek it out. She didn't need to be seen to be happy. She no longer needed the spotlight. She loved writing and nothing else mattered.

To those around her, Puck, Will Schuester, she wasn't good enough, and it hurt, but she was strong and smart. Mercedes was definitely smart enough, maybe smarter than most in a lot of cases. Regardless of what her persona portrayed, Mercedes loved that she was smart. She enjoyed school, English enthralled her as her favorite subject, while the human sciences fascinated her at a close second. By the time she graduated, she was ranked number five in her class and had a scholarship from Ohio State University. Not valedictorian, but she was proud of herself. She was going to the college of her choosing with her very close friend, Tina, and she was happy. A lot of change had taken place in the teenager from freshman year to senior year. She had learned who she wanted to be without worrying about those around her. A new passion had been discovered in songwriting, and she had become a better person. However, she hadn't let go of her bright 'diva' attire. That she couldn't seem to break from so easily as a teenager in high school, but before she entered college she knew she needed to shed that too. It had served its purpose, and she was older and different. She wanted her outside to reflect the maturity she had acquired over the years. So, she toned it down. Her ideology of fashion became completely opposite that of the old one. As a college student, less was more, not more is more. The crazy prints were discarded, and the wild color combos thrown away; she became a chic, trendy, casual-dressy-kind-of-girl, with some comfy sweats and t-shirt days mixed in.

Dressed in gray sweat capri pants with the school logo vertical on the left leg and a white long john shirt, Mercedes pulls the covers down on her bed smiling. She grew up quiet, timid, and intelligent; she spent half of high school brash, defensive, and shallow feigning ignorance. One day she realized that she didn't have to be either or, but she could be both. She took the best from each person she had been to become who she wanted to be. Who she is today. She didn't broadcast herself, make grand proclamations, stir up conflict, or sit idly by while someone tried to intimidate her. She didn't have to tell anyone she was a diva. She knew she was. She loves being a college student, and that her future possibilities range from songwriter to psychologist. She was a true diva in every sense of the word.

Snuggling under the sheets Mercedes closes her eyes ready to surrender to sleep. This has been a long day, and she just wants to go to sleep, wake up, and start anew. Her eyes close opening her mind. The 'kiss' replays in her head. It's as if she's caught in a vision. So real. Her fingers trace her lips as the memory of the sensation of Puck's firm lips touching hers causes her body to tingle. Angrily peeling her eyes open, Mercedes lets out a huff of air. Mentally expelling Puck from her.

In spite of the kiss and it's possible fallout, Puck had tried to delve into who the new Mercedes is to connect with her on a deeper level. Maybe, he didn't understand what he had done and thought everything was okay. If he did, he was wrong. Things had been altered and would be that way for the foreseeable future. She couldn't open up to him, like he did with her. It didn't feel right. She'd tried that without uttering a single word and had been burned just like he'd burned her in high school. There was too much risk involved, but she was old enough and smart enough to know better than ignoring the risk now. Mercedes would keep him at arm's length because that's what's best for her, and what he wants. He made that clear when he didn't give her what she wanted. What she needed even though she was pretty sure he was well aware of this.

Moving on is her only option because baring herself to him entails giving more of herself to him than she needs to, wants to, and it's not the way to accomplish that. They would be friends. Not best friends, they wouldn't share secrets or the intimate details of their lives. Just friends. The hanging out occasionally, shoot the breeze kind of friend. Nothing more.

A freeing sigh rushes from Mercedes as she tries sleep once again. The burden she has released empties her mind and she falls into slumber effortlessly.

**AN: Okay so I hope you liked it. This chapter kind of gives you more insight to who my characters are and what happened in their pasts. And answers the questions that I created in the previous chapter for the characters. So now that you have read it I would like your opinion on it. Fave, alert, review. That's what tells me what you think. **

**Thanks for reading**

**nakala**


	13. New Day prt I

**I Just want to say thanks to those of you who are still with me in this story for reading and a special thanks to the ONE reviewer I got for the last chapter. It always makes my day reading them. **

**Disclaimer: I own nothing save the storyline. **

Chapter 13

Three days. It has been three days since the mistake with Puck occurred. For the first two days, she moped around the dorm listening to Adele feeling bitter, angry, and very hurt. Maybe listening to a woman complain of love lost was not a good idea. Mercedes, however, felt entitled to mourn her loss of a future with Puck, or Noah, or whoever he wanted to be these days. It had been a dream she'd kept safe in a vault in her heart. Childishly holding on to a fairytale reunion where the two would serendipitously crash into one another and skip into the sunset. He'd broken into her heart taken that dream into his hands and mangled it beyond recognition. She was allowed her sorrow. However, not a tear was shed, that was out of the question, but there was copious amounts of candy and ice cream accompanied by all the romantic comedy she could tolerate with a smattering of action comedy tossed in between. After purging herself from the demons that still longed for a misplaced love, she girded her loins and placed it all behind her where it belonged, not daring to look back for fear of tuning into a pillar of salt. Today is a new day, the backtracking is over and she is moving forward invariantly.

Had she been trying to get over some frivolous matter, she may have dressed to impress simply because it made her feel better, but what she had dealt with the past couple of days had been a deal more than trivial. Mercedes didn't want to dress up for her little outing, it wasn't going to do anything for her mood, and the weather was rather pleasant for Columbus in the middle of winter engendering the hankering for practicality and comfort over her usual, but that didn't mean she was going to look like something the cat drug in.

Looking in the mirror examining herself for anything out of place; she buttons up her black, short-waisted, wool hooded pea coat and tightens her tawny scarf setting out to Café Lorno donning her favorite dark wash jeggings, a flowing gray long-sleeved tunic, and mahogany riding boots.

The drive to Lorno is peaceful. A reprieve from the crap storm that's been hovering over her since she ran into Puck. Bristling at the thought, she quickly dispels any musings of her one time boyfriend, opting to enjoy the scenery of the town and absorb it all as if it were her first time seeing it. She would not be sidetracked again. Today would be a Puck/Noah free day if it killed her.

Taking residence in her passenger seat is the one book Mercedes has been trying to read since it hit the bookstands. Today is going to be a 'her day'. The reading she's been deprived of is finally going to come first. Reading is one of her favorite hobbies, and school has monopolized her time along with everything else preventing her from partaking in something as menial, lately. So, that was her plan for today: find a cozy table at Lorno, pull out her book, and read until her heart's content.

As soon as she meanders through the door, the perfect table in the far back corner adjacent to the entrance catches Mercedes' eye. To her delight, the table and location is possibly the most inviting in the café, with its miniature club chairs and cushioned seats. Also, the dim light gives the area a very romantic feel. Not breaking her stride, she glides over to the table taking the seat closest to the wall. Her seating giving her the perfect view of the coffeehouse and it's sprinkling of fellow regulars. Snuggling into the lone club chair, Mercedes takes her book from her bag too excited to begin reading.

Engrossed in the prologue of James Patterson's _I, Alex Cross, _she curses to herself when she is interrupted. Mercedes doesn't quench the irritation stirring in her at the disruption; she is a little behind in the series and today was supposed to be her read day. The Christmas holiday was her chance to finally get caught up, but that's not likely to happen when she's being distracted not even a chapter into the book she is currently on, at least not any time soon.

"Hey, Mercedes." Puck is walking towards the table as he speaks.

"Hi, Noah." If you were to ask Mercedes if she expected to see the single person in the world that she didn't want to lay eyes on again for a minimum of a month today, she would have said no with conviction. Yet, here he is, she couldn't ignore him, so, she would have to be fine. It didn't matter that he was standing in front of her on her 'her day'. She'll be okay. She could do this with him.

"Do you mind if I sit." Gesturing to the seat directly across from Mercedes, Noah doesn't wait for her response before pulling the seat out and plopping down with his grande beverage, coffee, little cream loads of sugar, and a cheerful grin.

"Why ask if you're just going to sit anyway." She chuckles ruefully as she closes her book, hopefully not for good.

"I don't know; I guess I thought it was more appropriate than just sitting down. I'm not sure you would have liked that."

"Not really, but I expect nothing less from you." Her blithe demeanor belies the bite tainting her voice that she wants to shovel back into her mouth as soon as it unwittingly escapes.

The smile Puck is sporting twitches the moment the words shoot through his ears. This doesn't go unnoticed by the woman sitting in front of him.

Trying to camouflage her snafu, she immediately enlarges her smile. "You know I'm just kidding, right?" She says so sugary-sweet that she could charm a vampire into the sun. Hoping that it would work on the mere mortal sitting in front of her.

He wants to believe Mercedes is just joking with him. Honestly, there isn't any reason for him to think otherwise. Though a touch aloof after what happened Christmas, she still seemed to get along with him quite well. He didn't detect a note of anger then; therefore, he shouldn't suspect it now. She was just a little put out by him intruding in her space. Not that he had any plans to leave.

"Of course. No offense taken. Not that it would bother me at this point because I finally have a day off, my coffee is strangely perfect, and I had the pleasure of running into you. Never knew what I was missing alone here until I ran into you," catching himself he adds, "and Artie." Puck realizing that he's rambling and definitely saying more than he wants to quickly raises his coffee cup to his mouth taking a lingering sip ceasing anymore slips of the tongue on his behalf.

Mercedes chortles to herself all too aware of the ramblings of the man in front of her. His uncharacteristic fumbling and out of place anxiety possibly a factor of her obviously annoyed temperament. As he should be. She isn't blind and neither is the man _gracing_ her presence today. Puck knows exactly what happened between them; he saw the emotions harassing her face before she could wrangle them after the kiss. Maybe he wasn't fooled by her lie, no matter how sugary sweet it was, Puck could be perceptive when he wanted. If not with others, definitely with her. And she had the same tendency. Mercedes could read him like a book, and it didn't hurt that his eyes were the windows that gave her supreme access to his soul and his mind's churnings. Watching his eyes flash across her face not at all avoiding her examining gaze as he sips his coffee, she knows he believes her feigned jesting. If that wasn't good enough, he was _still_ content that he had ran into Mercedes after that comment, that alone told her everything she needed to know. He had overlooked her unfortunate slip of the tongue, and she was extremely grateful. Wounds were still fresh, but they would heal. She didn't want to appear a scorned woman; that would not bode well for her. She couldn't tolerate any of his pity. She would interact with him as if nothing had ever happened, one day soon. Of this she was certain. Maybe today even.

With Puck's ramblings silenced and no return of them appearing to resurface, Mercedes opens her book starting to read where she left off.

Minutes pass as Mercedes flies through the perfectly short chapters that are signature James Patterson. She'd gotten to chapter ten, which translates to only twenty pages, when Puck clears his throat in prelude to the end of Mercedes reading. Attention captured, she peers over the top of her book. When she sees Puck staring at her, she's sure this isn't going to be a quick question/answer session; he seems to want to talk. Puck wants to converse on _her_ time. Reluctantly, she closes her book placing it on the table to the side regretting coming to Lorno. Should have just stayed at home she contemplates. She would have been able to finish the whole book by nightfall, but she is trapped, for lack of a better comparison, at a table across from Puck. Not the first person on her list of people to waste time with. Masking her face with a look that tells her uninvited guest to proceed, Mercedes sits back in her chair waiting for her intruder to begin talking.

"So, um, whatcha reading?"

Narrowed eyes glower at innocent hazel orbs. When Mercedes speaks, she ensures he hears, and if at all possible feels her aggravation. "Really?"

Stumbling over his words, Puck answers. "Well, um, yeah? No? I just-the silence, it's getting to me. The one day I get to talk to somebody, for any length of time, and she's not talking. She's reading. I don't want to interrupt you, but I want to talk to you because…" Calming himself, Puck closes his mouth. It isn't like he didn't half expect this reaction. The question was lame, but he was drowning in the taciturnity. Faced with Mercedes across from him, his mind roams over uncharted territory. He needs it to stop. Consciously, he knows he's being a bother and just the same doesn't care. But it doesn't mean she needs to know that. If only he could get out of his own head. Glancing at Mercedes meekly, he finishes his rant more controlled. "It was the only thing I could think of at the time."

A smiling Mercedes rolls her eyes. _He's impossible._

"Don't do that. I'm alone ninety percent of the time. Before you and Artie, that was a hundred percent. So, sue me for not wanting to sit and watch you read." He rolls his eyes in mock frustration mimicking Mercedes' previous action, while a crooked smile tugs on his lips.

"Sorry." She offers an apologetic pout.

"It's okay. Just…I'm always with me, in my head. When I'm not alone, that's the last place I want to be. Much rather be in yours."

"Huh?" Did she hear wrong. He'd rather be in her head? Mercedes is caught off guard, but the statement is expeditiously dismissed by both her and Puck.

"Nothing. It's just, I would-talking to you is better than thinking to myself. Like I said, I get enough of that as it is."

"Oh."

"Yeah." Noah says flatly.

Sensing the need for a mood change, Mercedes decides to concede; her impromptu company isn't going anywhere, and she didn't want the tension between them to linger. "Okay, so… you're here. I'm here. You're not going to let me read my book," she says shrugging her shoulders in defeat but smiling widely, "you have a beverage, but I don't. So, how about I go get something to drink and possibly, no definitely, a cookie, come back and we talk? That sound good?" Before Noah can respond, Mercedes answers her own question. "I know it does. I'm good company."

Pushing back from the table, Mercedes proceeds to the counter to get in the long line of people waiting to order. Before she makes it to the line, she turns to look over her shoulder in Puck's direction grinning shaking her head. This boy had a way with her. Once in line, she leans over to look toward the front checking to see how long the waits going to be. While taking her mental count of patrons, Mercedes feels a warm hand grasp her shoulder gently.

Startled, she turns around to see who is behind her hoping she doesn't have to break some perv's hand. The site she takes in throws her consciousness for a second. Garrison.

"Hey, Mercedes." He had been watching her waiting for a moment like this to present itself since he's entered the small coffee shop and saw her sitting with a guy in the corner. A guy who Garrison thought could be her boyfriend.

"Garrison, hi, you scared me." She says jovially.

"Sorry about that." Garrison flashes his toothy smile shocked that Mercedes Jones actually seems glad to see him.

"It's okay. What are you doing here? I thought you were going to be home until after New Year's."

"I was, but my parents decided they wanted to spend the holiday in Australia. When they left, I came back. I didn't want to go."

"You stayed here instead of going to Australia. Wow. Couldn't have been me. But why are you here at Lorno, I haven't seen you here before, and I come here all the time. It's my favorite place near campus."

Aside from the night at the concert Mercedes hadn't spoken to Garrison other than a few very brief conversations prior to today. Things were different then. She had been ignoring his advances in an attempt to protect her heart. Today, however, is a new day, the past is incinerated in the pits of hell where they belong, and she isn't going to pass up an opportunity to allow a handsome guy to breach her once impenetrable walls.

Just as Mercedes is giving in to being more than cordial with Garrison, he too feels that today luck is on his side. The girl he avidly pursued for nearly two years is finally _talking_ to him. And not the three letter words she always had in reserve for him. Small step, but a step nonetheless. Yet, despite his newfound hope he couldn't quell the ominous thoughts stirring within him. All deliberation could be ignored for now. Now, he is going to give his full attention to the beautiful woman he didn't want to take his eyes off of, and hope he could make something out of this chance.

Halting reflection, Garrison quietly laughs at her statement. "Sydney's New Year's celebration is too gaudy; I prefer less. This year I just wanted to be with my parents, but they had different plans. As for why I'm here," he shrugs his shoulders, "looking for a good cup of tea. I was driving by and just stopped in. I guess it was just luck the first time I happen upon this place I run into you."

There goes that smile again. Mercedes gazes at the man that she has evaded for quite some time, chastising herself. How could she have discounted him? There is too much right about him to be wrong. Puck must have really done a number on her if she could pass Garrison over time and time again.

Noting the faraway stare in Mercedes' eyes, Garrison feels he may have caused her to revert to her previous disposition regarding him with his obvious flirting as usual. He doesn't want their conversation to end prematurely; therefore, he changes the subject to something more neutral to lure her back to him. "So, uh, Mercedes how was your Christmas?"

The dreadful event plays in her mind drawing her from her previous ruminations. "It was…not so bad except…" She pauses mid sentence. She did not need to mention anything involving Puck.

"What no fun being alone?"

"No, not that, I had company; it's just that we kind-"

"You got into a fight with your boyfriend," he deadpans.

"Yes. No. Kind of. What?" Confusion colors her face and overtakes her words.

Garrison tilts his head in Puck's direction who is sitting at the table immersed in thought. "The guy at the table over there. I saw you two sitting together when I came in."

"Noah?" Mercedes laughs nervously, "He is not my boyfriend. I spent Christmas with him, but he's not my boyfriend. Just a friend. I don't have a boyfriend."

Garrison releases a breath he had involuntarily been holding at the revelation. His deflated spirits reclaiming the life it had when he walked up to Mercedes. "Oh, sorry about the assumption." Learning from past mistakes, Garrison squelches the witty comment itching to come out upon attaining knowledge of her relationship status. She was practically asking for it, but he refrains not wanting to cause Mercedes to shut him down. Lord knows it's happened more times than he cares to count.

"No problem, I can see how you would figure. That or you were fishing." Mercedes doesn't know why she feels at ease flirting with Garrison, but she doesn't dwell on the issue long. She is finally indulging him and can't say she wished it any other way at the moment.

A jolt of energy surges through Garrison's heart as Mercedes beams at him. This girl would definitely be the death of him. "Maybe I was. Maybe I wasn't," he says smirking. The tides have turned, and he thinks if she's okay with him fishing the inch just turned into a mile.

Mercedes does her signature eye roll, returning his smirk with one of her own. "Whatever."

"Hey, the line is practically nonexistent now. Maybe we should move up before someone else breaks in line." Garrison says looking past Mercedes toward the counter. He hadn't missed her little _attitude _he actually thought it was cute, but he did want that cup of tea he so badly wanted before running into Mercedes. If people continued to break, it would be a long wait.

"What? People have been breaking?" She can feel herself becoming severely irritated at the thought of such.

"Yeah, like three. Didn't you see?" Garrison can't see how she didn't see. They would be coming from behind him, Mercedes should have been first to see.

"Uh, no, I didn't. But really, how rude. They could have tapped us and told us the line was moving or something."

Everything else the chocolate beauty had spoken becomes letters in the wind. As far as Garrison is concerned she'd only said the first phrase. His lips quirk into a crooked grin, "It's nice to know I can hold your attention so raptly."

Effrontery noted Mercedes quickly narrows her eyes at the daring man facing her. Cocking her head to the side, Mercedes raises her left eyebrow. "Really?"

"You said it not me." He says tossing in a wink for good measure.

Automatically, Mercedes eyes roll, yet again, his cocksure attitude was amusingly chafing. And despite the fact that she had disregarded his advances in the past, she doesn't want it to stop now. Because Garrison's brilliant smile makes her mind stop along with all muscle function, there isn't a noteworthy retort at the ready. She simply recycles her previous gibe. "Whatever."

Turning around, Mercedes walks up to the counter with Garrison following close behind mirth written on his face. Neither knowledgeable of the agitated man sitting at the table in the corner.

"What will it be today, our specials-" Before the barista finishes her obviously practiced salutation, Mercedes spouts out her order. "No thank you, I know what I want. A tall white hot chocolate with a shot of caramel, and a white chocolate macadamia nut cookie."

"That's it?"

"No add a grande chai tea latte." Garrison says stepping up next to Mercedes.

The young woman eyes the gorgeous man standing by the short woman, then back at the attractive man. She mentally congratulates the young woman on snagging a fine catch while ringing up their order.

"What are you doing?" Mercedes asks skeptically.

"Placing my order?"

"But why did you-" Mercedes is cut off by the barista announcing their total.

Pulling his wallet from his pocket, Garrison extracts his debit card handing it to the girl working the register. A hand stops him from completing the transaction.

"No I can't let you pay for me."

"Why not? I don't mind."

"I'm sure you don't, but I do. We've barely spoken aside from a few brief conversations here and there before now. I can't let you pay."

While Mercedes is talking, he stealthily hands the cashier his card. "Doesn't matter I've already paid." When he sees Mercedes' face contort in frustration, a hearty laugh erupts from him. He takes the receipt waiting for him, but it is immediately snatched from his hand.

"I told you I didn't want you to pay." Mercedes whines.

"I did. It's no big deal."

"But…well, let me-" Digging in her bag for her wallet, her words are clipped short.

"You really don't have to pay me back. It's really okay, Mercedes."

Her concentration focused solely on retrieving the money to repay the chivalrous man, she ignores him. Both orders are delivered as Mercedes continues to count the exact amount she owes.

"Put your money away and get your stuff. It's not like I'm going to take it anyway."

Mercedes huffs dropping the currency into the bag bypassing the wallet. She kindly takes the hot chocolate and cookie extended to her from Garrison who is smiling victoriously. The scowl growing on her face wipes away the offending fixture from his face.

"How about this? Since you seem soooo bent out of shape about me paying for your stuff, you can pay for mine the next time we're here. How's that?"

Her brown eyes peer into his clear ochre, a smile tugs on her lips, and she feels a prick at her heart so small she shrugs it off. "Yeah, I guess that'll work."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. I guess I should-" She points toward the table and starts walking in that direction when images of Garrison's smiling face pop into her mind that same prick occurs again only a little stronger. Pushing caution to the wind, Mercedes decides not to weigh her options or try to foresee the possible outcomes her actions will incite. Instead, she spins around and walks in the direction from which she came. Luckily for her, he is still standing where she left him, looking at her. Had the opposite been true, she may have lost her nerve. At this point, she has to go for it.

"How is tomorrow this time?"

Garrison gawks at her his usual confidence wavering. Puzzled his expression falters as shock and excitement replaces his inbred cool, calm demeanor. He recovers instantly; the sparkle in his eyes lighting fire to Mercedes' heart. She mentally kicks herself for not acceding earlier. No need to think of her foolishness now, better late than never. Thankfully for her, there is still a later. An arched eyebrow and a broad grin inquire of his unspoken answer.

"I'm sorry I can't."

Mercedes' lips fall into a flat line all aplomb washed away. This isn't what she expected. Maybe she had pushed him away for too long.

Noticing the encroaching cloudy disposition threatening to overtake Mercedes, Garrison saunters towards her stopping mere inches from her form. He takes her drink and cookie, after placing his on the empty table near theirs and does the same with hers. "Can I see your phone?"

Mercedes gives him her phone perplexed. He asks her to unlock it; taking it back, he saves his number to her phone then texts himself. "Tomorrow, yes, time not so much. But now I have your number, I'll call you and then we can meet up, yes?"

Filled with relief, Mercedes gapes at the guy still fiddling with her phone and answers a little stunned by his behavior. "Okay, that works." She knew he could be forward, but this is more than she envisaged. Not to mention, his proximity to her is doing things to her mind she hadn't experienced in years.

He nods then raises Mercedes' phone to eye level and takes a picture of himself.

He gives her phone back to her and she peruses it stopping at his name in the contacts. "What is this?"

"A picture of me. So, when I call you know who it is."

Rolling her eyes for what seems the hundredth time, "I only needed a name," her voice void of any exasperation the action portrays.

"But this is much better, yes?" Garrison winks flashing his prize winning smile.

"You're so full of yourself."

With the smile downsized to a slight tilt of his lips he imitates humility, "Not at all," which quickly dissipates, "so, tomorrow, I'll call you," he says grabbing his chai tea from the table.

"Okay." She intones doing the same.

"Goodbye, Mercedes."

"Bye." Mercedes watches him walk out of the coffee shop before making her way to join Puck at her table.

Walking back to the table she shares with Puck, she sips her hot chocolate to check the temperature. She's not one for cold hot chocolate. It's oxymoronic and not so tasty. The warm liquid coating her throat is warm not hot but it will do. She takes her seat still emblazoned in the gaiety of her conversation with Garrison.

"So, let's get you out of that head of yours."

There is brightness to her tone that wasn't there before. And for many reasons, it bugs Puck, however, he can't be forthcoming with his discomfort since she seems all too willing to indulge him, whereas, before she was merely tolerating him. His lip curls awkwardly into what he prays is a smile and not a grimace. His emotions are jerking him around too much for his liking.

"Thank God, you were gone for, like, ever."

"Oh, I kind of was, wasn't I? Sorry. I'm all yours now." The smile she dons for Puck this time around is genuine. Things were looking up for her, and how could she truly accept them if she continued the animosity with her 'her day' companion.

**AN: **

**So there you have it. Things are starting to change for Mercedes and she's trying to come to grips with her relationship with Puck. This is part one I had to break up the chapter because it was getting too long. Next is all Mercedes and Puck on her 'her day'. **


	14. New Day prt II

**So I'm back and it didn't take too long. So here's part two and those of you that are still reading go ahead and review.**

**I want to say a hearty thanks to Average Everyday Sane Psycho for sticking in there with me and always reviewing your reviews believe it or not kept me from giving up on this story and let me know that someone is still reading my fic because even if it's just for one person I will continue this story or any other that I write.**

**So again a HUGE Thanks to you. And woogie327 for reviewing that last chapter. Also to those that are still reading.**

**Song: Adele's Set Fire to Rain (for purposes of story mercedes wrote)**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing but my interpretation and the story itself, the song does not belong to me it belongs to those who wrote it (though i took some liberties with it) yeah so i don't own anything that may get me sued **

**Chapter 14 New Day prt II**

"_T__hank God, you were gone for, like, ever."_

"_Oh, I kind of was, wasn't I? Sorry. I'm all yours now." The smile she dons for Puck this time around is genuine. Things were looking up for her, and how could she truly accept them if she continued the animosity with her 'her day' companion._

Mercedes had been away from the table long enough to adopt a chipper personality and feel up to talking to the one person Puck was sure she didn't want to. But here they are and he isn't going anywhere and it seems his persistence has paid off because _she's all his now. _A thought he isn't comfortable dwelling on as of yet.

"It's okay." Puck says absentmindedly. His mind elsewhere.

A smile rests on her face as she bites her cookie in the best mood she's had in a while. Savoring her chewy dessert, the young woman notices the furrowed brows and intent glare Puck is giving her. Mercedes mistakes his contemplative expression for interest in her favorite cookie. The way he's staring at her he must want a piece of her _cookie_.

"You want a piece? It's so good." Mercedes makes of face of pure satisfaction as she offers Puck a bite.

The extended hand alerts Puck that Mercedes has just said something. He catches up quickly looking at the bitten cookie in her hand.

"What? Uh, no. I don't." He schools his expression from one of confusion to indifference.

"Aww, come on it's good. You've had it before haven't you?"

"No. I'm not much of a cookie guy." He can't believe he's actually talking about cookies with Mercedes. This is not what he had in mind. Puck doesn't even like cookies.

"What? Everybody likes cookies. There's no such thing."

"Well, I don't really do cookies so I guess there is such a thing, huh?" She's smiling at him, and he can't tamper down the feelings causing the squirming in his stomach. He'd though that it would be a lifetime before he saw that smile again directed at him, but here they are and here it is. The twinkle in her eye and the brightness of her smile is recorded on his mental reel. He would never forget this look on Mercedes' face for as long as he lived.

"Not after today, because once you taste this cookie you'll be buying it all the time, especially from here. They make the best. Soft chewy more chocolate than nut. Perfect. Here take a bite." Mercedes shoves her cookie into her friend's face, but she is met with rejection. Feigning offense, "You should be grateful. I don't offer my cookies to nobody, not even Kurt, so you're going to try it. I take my cookies seriously," she says with her hand in Puck's face waving her cookie around.

"Did you just say that? You take your cookies seriously? Don't say that to anyone else." The innuendo is obvious to him a warm-blooded male, and would be to any person. For some reason, it seems Mercedes is completely clueless. The thought of her thinking of _only _cookies causes Puck to chuckle.

"Whatever, just try it."

"Okay." Snatching the godforsaken cookie from Mercedes, he takes a tentative bite.

He likes her favorite cookie. She can tell by the surprised look on his face. "What do you think?" She asks in a sing song voice.

"It was okay." Really the cookie was great, but the man in him can't gush over a cookie. That just can't happen.

"Just okay?" she questions noting the lie spewing from Puck's lips. _These are the best cookies in the world._

Silence follows for a few minutes with Mercedes glaring at Puck with a smug smirk on her lips until he finally gives in. "Alright, it was good. I like it."

A smile brighter than fluorescence graces the cookie lover's face, which is returned by one of equal stature in earnest. "I told you," she says triumphantly.

Puck shakes his head thinking he didn't know how much he needed this, being with her, until now, until today. They settle into a comfortable silence. He appraises her; she seems content, as though nothing has happened between them, as if the tension from previous has evaporated. With a deep breath, he allows the contentment to wash over him. Just being with her has that affect on him.

Sitting amongst the silence, his mind wonders thinking of when she adopted this freeness and it leads him to the guy Mercedes was talking to a little while ago. After she came back from talking to him, her whole attitude was altered. Puck needs to know who this fellow is who wields such a power over this headstrong woman. The man appeared familiar, but Puck was having the hardest time placing him. Breaking the silence, he sets out to remedy his problem. "Hey, who was that guy you were talking to before?"

Mercedes looks up from her cup quizzically, "Garrison, you remember, I sang with him at the concert."

"Yeah, that's where I know that face from," he says mostly to himself, "I saw him take your phone; what was that about?"

"Just catching up, or I guess getting to know each other. I don't know."

"How is that possible?"

Mercedes puts her cup down in preparation of her explanation. "Okay, so, I've known him, not like we're friends or anything, but we've been in choir together for a while. We've never really talked, though, or rather he talked I didn't listen. So I asked him out for coffee tomorrow."

"Asked him out? As a friend or date?" An unfamiliar emotion buds inside Puck as he imagines Mercedes with this pretty boy. Why she would want someone like that, he doesn't understand.

"A little bit of both I guess?"

"You seem to be doing a lot of that today," is his snarky reply to her uncertainty.

"Shut up, Puck – I mean – Noah, God I am never going to get that."

Ignoring her slip because there are more important issues at hand, he continues his interrogation. "Why don't you know?"

She shrugs her shoulders, "I don't know. I – it's like – we don't really know each other well and I'm not trying to rush into anything. But then again…there is that drop dead gorgeous smile and those sexy dimples. But I guess I want to see if there's more to him than all of that sexiness."

"Really, Mercedes?" Puck is not some girlfriend of hers; he does not want to hear her talking about a guy like that. He may be her friend, but they're not that friendly.

"You know he's a great looking guy."

"What? No I don't."

"Yes you do. Admit it." She says playfully.

"Why would I do that?"

"Why not?"

"Because I'm a guy."

"That doesn't mean anything," she says with seriousness etching her voice.

"Sure it does. Guys don't-we just don't do stuff like that."

"Yes they do. Plenty of men do it, Puck, there's nothing wrong with it."

"Yeah, guys like Kurt."

Mentioning Kurt is a big mistake because as soon as he does the banter quickly turns from friendly to animus annoyance.

"Shut up, stupid, you don't have to be gay to do it. Artie does it. He doesn't have a problem with saying another guy is good looking." She is tempted to poke Puck in his forehead, but refrains trying to keep her temper in check.

"I'm not Artie."

Though it's not fair or relevant, Mercedes thinks of Artie and his relationship with Tina, how great a guy he is and contrasting that with what she knows about the man sitting opposite her. "No. You're not Artie or anybody else for that matter." She wouldn't lay a hand on him; however, she seems to be incapable of controlling her mouth when it comes to the insufferable dimwit sitting with her.

He doesn't miss the double meaning or the nasty tone. Puck isn't sure if it's a slip of the tongue or if he's projecting. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing. It's just means that you are you and will always be you. You are not Artie or Kurt or even Garrison."

"Garrison? What does he have to do with anything?" Just hearing the man's name makes Puck's insides contract uncomfortably and his blood boil.

"I'm just saying. You asked, so, I'm saying you are you and nobody else." All rationale is out of the door at this point. Mercedes is in a zone tainted by her past.

"You say it like it's a bad thing." Puck is confused but getting angrier by the minute with her hazy rejoinders.

"I didn't say it was a bad thing."

"No, but it sounded like-"she looks at him puzzled or maybe she's faking her ignorance. He can't tell, but he's upset and decides to continue on, "like you were implying that it was. I didn't hear you say it was a good thing."

"I don't imply. I didn't imply. I was simply saying that you are _you_. Whatever inference you make from that point on is totally all you because I said nothing in reference to good or bad. Maybe it's a subconscious thing on your part."

It was a hit. A hard brutal hit. Rigid left jab to an already swollen shut eye. Puck is cut and bleeding badly. What could he say to that? He couldn't accuse her of trying to say something negative about him because factually she hadn't said anything positive or negative. Mercedes is smart. This he is discovering all too slowly.

The tension surrounding the comrades is stifling and Puck hasn't a clue how to dispense it. She's stunned him into dreaded silence.

Mercedes feels stupid. Maybe it is too soon to associate with Puck in such a capacity. She should have left or sent him on his way. But no, she just had to humor him to prove to herself that she is fine with being around him. Snide little comments were constantly seeping into their conversation of which she seemed to have no control over. It is the worst case of verbal dysentery she has ever had. She finds herself saying something and before she can think her mouth is moving. The goal isn't to hurt him or make him pay because she is bitter; that isn't what she wanted to do at all. Actually, she wanted to be okay with being Puck's/Noah's friend. However, reconciling that within her is proving very difficult. Perhaps it is going to take longer than three days to cool off, let the anger and resentment subside.

Mercedes hopes this mess brewing with Puck will soon ebb; yet, even if it doesn't she won't allow it to ruin anything she could possibly have with Garrison. The guy deserves a shot. After everything that has conspired between her and Puck, she is more than willing to give it to him.

Finishing his coffee, Puck stews, mulling over the things he's heard coming from the woman he's scorned, while Mercedes lazily consumes her cookie and white hot chocolate; both hesitant to speak.

After some while, Puck timidly ventures to break the quiet. "Mercedes?"

She looks up at him this time with a renewed sense of awareness. "Huh?"

"You don't really think I'm a bad person, do you?" he says looking down at his clasped hands.

What does she say to that? Did she? One thing she knows for sure is that he could be; he had been to her in the past. But was he now? The deflated look in Puck's eyes startles Mercedes momentarily, and instead of seeing the man in front of her, the image of him from her dreams after running into him the first time takes his place. The hurt boy she knows is covered by the bravado Puck often exudes is anything but hidden now. She may not ever get used to calling him by his given name, but for once she can see him. Noah.

"No," she says with total confidence. Truthfully she doesn't think he is a bad person at heart. In fact, Mercedes believes that Puck-Noah is a compassionate individual, however, misguided.

"Really? No lie? Because if you think that … I … understand." Noah's last words are mumbled as he lifts his head to look Mercedes in the eyes. He doesn't need her lies. He could take her honesty even if it hurt. He deserves it.

"Puck," the aforementioned winces at the misnomer prompting Mercedes to rapidly correct her mistake, "Noah, sorry about that," she hates this new name change thing; she understands it, but that didn't mean she had to like it. "I'm not too keen on lying just to make someone feel better. I said it; I meant it. I don't think you're a bad person. Can you be, yeah, but are you? From my interaction with you these last couple of weeks, I say no."

"Thanks." A faint smile plays across Puck's lips.

"It's the truth." She smiles back.

As soon as the smile on Mercedes' face appears it's wiped away by the words that come out of Noah's mouth.

"Sometimes I don't think so."

_No, please don't start this. _Mercedes doesn't want this burdensome conversation to continue. She is learning that the new Puck, Noah if you will, is more of an _I showed you mine now show me yours_ kind of guy when it comes to talking. Unfortunately for him, she is not capable of doing that with him right now, possibly never. Not wanting to be rude, Mercedes keeps her mouth shut. If she doesn't encourage him then he will eventually stop. But he doesn't, he is gone with a faraway look in his eyes, as though he's at the table alone.

"I mean, I'm always doing stuff that hurt the people I care about most. What kind of person does that? So many people. Myself included. It's hard not to think I'm anything but bad." Noah goes mute with a distant gaze. His mind rummaging through his transgressions past and present.

Finding Noah's contemplative state opportune, she quickly cuts into his train of thought. "Hey, what's on your schedule for today?"

"Huh? What?"

"I said, what's on your schedule for today. What do you actually do on your days off?"

He's not fooled, but he can't fault her for not wanting to participate in his pity party. "Sleep."

"Yeah, but what about today? You're not sleeping right now, and you seem to want company, not sleep. So, you must be doing something more than sleeping," she smiles brightly.

"Well, I have to go to the music store."

"Yeah? What do you need?" Is this a captivating conversation? No it is not; however, this is leaps and bounds better than her having to listen to him mope about his past.

"Some strings, music paper, a pick."

"Essentials," she muses, "I need some music paper for myself, come to think of it. I won't hold you up; I bet you're the type who's in the music store for like a ton of hours for no earthly reason at all."

A large crooked grin cracks Noah's apathetic mask. "True, but you don't have to go, or, I don't have to leave or whatever." _That was awkward. _"I still want company. You can go with me, pick up what you need. If you want to?"

Mercedes thinks about the invitation. What's the worst that could happen at this point? "Okay."

Puck looks at her shocked. He can't believe she's willing to go along with him, but doesn't question it. He'll take what he can get.

They get up to leave and Noah takes Mercedes' trash disposing it along with his empty cup. Walking in tandem, they traipse towards Noah's transportation. Realization stops Mercedes in her tracks. Puck doesn't drive a car or a truck. Fearful of riding on the back of a motorcycle, Mercedes suggests a better solution to their transportation problems. "We can take my car."

"What? Nooo. It's not that cold today, and you're dressed for it. Come on. Have you ever ridden a motorcycle before?"

"No and these," she says pointing to her feet, "are not bike riding boots. These are be cute horse riding/ non-horse riding boots. I don't want to ruin them," Mercedes finishes with an eyebrow raised at Noah.

"You won't."

"But I don't have a helmet." She is trying everything to get out of this bike ride. She isn't sure if she wants to trust Puck with her life.

"You can have mine."

"What about you?" This is not the Puck she remembers from any time in her life. He is definitely becoming the person, Noah, the better half of him.

"I'm glad you care, but I'll be fine. Stop being a punk and come on. You'll like it. Plus you owe me one I tried that cookie for you."

"I'm not a punk, and I owe you nothing." She says defiantly.

"Sure." He nudges her as they stand beside his bike.

"Okay, you!" she concedes, "Only you could-" she snaps her mouth shut.

Puck glances at her sideways a sudden burst of excitement spiking in him knowing what she was going to say, but plays it off as if he's heard nothing. He steps forward taking his helmet from his bike handing it to Mercedes and climbs on his bike. Though she is still a little freaked about riding the contraption of death, she follows behind him. When he cranks the motorcycle, she hesitantly puts her hands around his waist.

"Hold on tight," he says and she can hear the glee in his voice.

Her hair billows out past the helmet, the wind whipping it away from her face. It all feels surprisingly liberating, the wind in her face, and open to the elements nothing between her and her surroundings. It is beautiful. Nestled closely to her chauffeur the wind forces his mocha scent into her nose and what fear for her safety that still remains quickly dissipates.

The ride is short-lived. Before long, they are pulling into a small little music shop just out of town, probably family owned. He parks as close to the entrance as possible helping Mercedes off before getting off himself.

"Your hands are cold," he mentions once he is standing in front of her.

"Yeah a little," she shrugs.

"They're freezing, Merce, here give me your hands." Noah grabs her soft hands sandwiching them between his too-soft-for-a-man hands. Wanting to speed up the process he pulls his hands with hers in tow to his mouth expelling warm coffee breath onto them.

"You don't have to do this you know."

"Yeah?" He's very of aware that he does not _have_ to warm her hands, but that doesn't mean he doesn't _want _to.

"Yeah," she whispers yanking her hands back turning away from him and walking toward the store.

Shaking off Mercedes' weird vibe he falls in line with her. "So how much fun did you have losing your motorcycle virginity?" There's a gleam in his eye that is all Puck when he looks at the lady walking hurriedly into the store.

"What?" Her head snaps to her left to eye him better.

"It was your first time wasn't it?"

"Ye-ah?"

"So, I popped your bike riding cherry?"

"Puc-Noah, you are such a perv."

His lips turn up seductively at what she means as an insult. "Sometimes. How do you feel not being a motorcycle virgin? I bet you want to do it all the time now don't you?" he says nudging her making sure she gets his insinuation.

The double meaning is definitely not loss on Mercedes. She rolls her eyes shaking her head, "You are such a turd and a pervert. Did I say that yet?" she asks smirking at Puck.

"Yeah, but really, all jokes aside, how was it?"

"It was fun; I actually loved it." Surprise is evident in her answer.

"I figured you would. Who doesn't?" The smug grin plastered on Puck's face garners a signature eye roll form the former diva.

"Whatever. And did you call me Merce?"

"Yeah, I can't call you Mama, now, can I?" Mercedes shakes her head, "so, I came up with that."

She ponders the nickname Puck has obviously thought little about. What is it with this guy and names? Seeing no harm in the new nickname she concedes. "O-kay I guess it'll do."

"Yeah it will." Puck's self-satisfied attitude is in common form today. Sucking her teeth Mercedes slaps Puck's arm then rushes away from him entering the store laughing with him on her heels.

Walking together, they make their way to the picks. She watches him mull over the picks. Picking up different ones and putting them back and repeating the process over again. This lasts for about 20 minutes before Merce decides to leave him to his own devices wondering off on her own. A few aisles over, she comes across the papers she is looking for. After grabbing a few packs, she sets out to find Puck again. At a glance she can see he doesn't have a pick yet despite his diligent shopping, but now has moved on to perusing the strings.

"Still no pick?" she whines.

"No." Puck doesn't look up from the strings too occupied.

"But why not? You were there forever, and now you're doing the same thing with the strings, at this rate we'll be here when the place closes."

"Huh?"

"Ugh!" Throwing up her hands Mercedes marches off having already finished her shopping and bored with watching Puck not buy anything.

Making her way to the front, Mercedes sees an upright piano in the center of the room. Having nothing better to do at the moment, she sits at the piano poking at the keys.

Before long, humming begins to drift from within her, an old melody from her past. Her fingers press the keys deliberately in tune with the sound coming from her mouth. The song, she recalls, is from a few years ago, possibly from her senior year in high school. Reaching the end of the intro, she opens her mouth involuntarily and the words flow out.

_I let it fall, my heart  
And as it fell, you rose to claim it  
It was dark and I was over  
Until you kissed my lips and you saved me  
My hands, they're strong, but my knees were far too weak  
To stand in your arms without falling to your feet  
But there's a side to you that I never knew, never knew  
All the things you'd say, they were never true, never true  
And the games you'd play, you would always win, always win  
_

As the words pour out of her, she can feel them working something inside her soul. These words hadn't been uttered since she wrote it during the week of graduation. Back then, it had only been a means of trying to extinguish a fire burning inside of her, yet, proved futile. Mercedes had been so in love with Puck. A love she couldn't seem to shake.

_But I set fire to the rain  
Watched it pour as I touched your face  
Well, it burned while I cried  
'Cause I heard it screaming out your name, your name  
_

Often times she had burned him in effigy, if only spiritually. She fought with all her might to break the curse binding her soul to his, but as she sings today she can feel the hold on her heart releasing and the wounds beginning to heal.

_When I'm with you I could stay there  
Close my eyes, feel you near forever  
You and me together, nothing is better  
But there's a side to you that I never knew, never knew  
All the things you'd say, they were never true, never true  
And the games you'd play, you would always win, always win  
_

Visions of him running out on her after being so close flash through her mind. So close. They were so close. She's never let anyone else get so close. Not even as close.

_But I set fire to the rain  
Watched it pour as I touched your face  
Well, it burned while I cried  
'Cause I heard it screaming out your name, your name_

_I set fire to the rain  
And I threw us into the flames  
When we fell, something died  
'Cause I knew that that was the last time, the last time_

As she sings customers of the music store gravitate toward the genius that's emanating from her. One of the last people to come over is Puck. Seeing him nearing her, she closes her eyes. She doesn't want to see him. She can't see him; inside she knows that right now is about her. Not him.

_Sometimes I wake up by the door  
That heart you caught must be waiting for you  
Even now when we're already over  
I can't help myself from looking for you  
_

The song is about him. He's standing an arm's length away from her gazed fixed, and she hopes desperately that he doesn't know it. However, beyond her hope she knows he does. How could he not.

_I set fire to the rain  
Watched it pour as I touch your face  
Well, it burned while I cried  
'Cause I heard it screaming out your name, your name  
I set fire to the rain  
And I threw us into the flames  
When we fell, something died  
'Cause I knew that that was the last time, the last time, oh  
_

Therapeutic. Simultaneously opening her heart as she bellows the final lyrics of the song, she can feel the weights lifted and doors opening. She's no longer bound. She is free. Free.

_Oh, no  
Let it burn, oh  
Let it burn  
Let it burn_

When the song finishes, she's snapped out of her music induced trance by the applauding crowd wildly gifting her with accolades. Eventually, after about 5 minutes of inquiring about the song they disperse, while one listener hangs behind.

He stares at her thoughtfully; he is thoroughly bewildered. Here he sees a woman who is supremely talented, yet, she appears to have no care in pursuing a career. The song. The beautiful poignant song. There is no questioning that the song is about him. When she wrote it doesn't matter. She'd all but said she didn't love anybody after him. Walking toward her a look of awe replaces his addled brows.

"That was beautiful, Merce."

"Thanks." Her eyes linger on the keys as she speaks too afraid to fix her eyes to the man standing beside her.

"When did you write it?" This is not the question he wants to ask exactly, but he's fishing in anticipation that it will lead to the desired destination.

"Senior year of High School, I think."

"Wow, you wrote that as a teenager. Some adults don't have the depth to pull something like that off. My stuff isn't even _that_ good."

"I don't know, Noah, what you sing at Lorno is really good."

"Yeah, it's okay. Not as good as yours. I mean I've only heard two of your songs and each time I've been left speechless after. Not to mention, I don't sing half as good as you do. Don't get me wrong, I have some pretty sexy chops, but not many people sing as good as you do."

"Thanks. I am good aren't I," she says jokingly with her head in the air.

_Bingo. _"I think that's the point I am trying to make. It's why I wonder why you're not in, like, LA or Atlanta somewhere trying to do anything with all that talent. You shouldn't hoard it, Merce. You should be doing something. It's not like you need to find a writer for you so it should be easier."

Why wasn't she a singer? Wouldn't he want to know. However, she can't tell him. He couldn't handle it, nor did she want to. It would be stepping over boundaries she's set in place to protect her mending heart. For now it's a non-issue. She's not interested in that lifestyle anymore.

"I told you before; it just doesn't appeal to me like it did when I was younger. Writing for others, I could do that. I may do it. But singing is in my past." _Among other things,_ she wants to say, but keeps it to herself. She and Puck had already argued and a flippant remark would only antagonize him and they would start up again. Ruining the overall good time she's having in spite of. That doesn't mean that this conversation isn't working her last nerve.

"Don't get it, but if you say so, who am I to push."

"I do say so, and what about you. Are you pushing your music career?" she says turning the tables.

"I do that thing at Lorno."

"Yeah and that's great, it really is, but are you doing anything else? More."

"No. I don't have time-" Puck is cut off by a rapidly firing Mercedes.

"Do you really want to be a music artist?"

"Yeah, why would you ask that?"

"You ask me why I'm not in Atlanta or LA, but you aren't in either of those places. So, I wonder how bad you actually want it."

She's coming off a little harsh. She knows it and has no idea where it's coming from. But life is hard and the entertainment business is even harder. Mercedes isn't trying to provoke him for bringing up a touchy subject; maybe a little, but mostly she wants Puck to see that he's not doing anything extra to get what he wants. If he wants it, he wouldn't be in Columbus. That's what she thinks anyway.

Puck is at a loss for words. How dare she question his desire for music? She doesn't understand, Puck surmises, because if she did she wouldn't be saying these things. He rings in his temper. He wants her to understand and that can only happen if he's calm enough to explain. Though it seems like a jibe, he can see that she isn't necessarily trying to attack him. He believes that in her own way she is attempting to help, but it doesn't change the fact that it incensed him a great deal.

This is just one of the many hostile statements she's shoved his way today. Composing himself, Noah tries to clarify as thoroughly as possible his situation without blowing up. He couldn't allow that to happen. He takes his music very serious, and he could alienate himself from Mercedes by doing so.

"Mercedes, you have no idea how bad I want it. Of course I should be some place better than here. I should be in some big entertainment city, but that wouldn't be right for me now. If you remember, Mercedes, I'm only two years sober, and before that my life was pretty jacked up. Music was the last thing on my mind after I gave my daughter up for adoption," _and I broke up with you_, "so, all those years you were writing and doing whatever else, I was drowning in my own pity. I want it, Merce; I just have to be ready when I finally take off to make it happen."

His bitter tone wanes as he finishes, hampered by the look he sees in Mercedes' eyes.

Remorse has traded places with the smug concern that only moments ago took residence on her face. She shouldn't have been so inconsiderate. It wasn't as if he hadn't told her about the problems he'd had after they broke up. Mercedes berates herself internally before she builds the nerve to speak. "I'm sorry."

"It's alright."

"No. It's not, even if I wasn't trying to be mean, it was. So, I'm sorry."

"Really, it's okay. I don't expect you to understand."

Mercedes takes a deep breath. She promised herself she wouldn't do this with Puck. She wouldn't do the _I'm interested in your story_ thing, but she can't help herself. The weary expression is anything but forgiving, and Mercedes feels uneasy leaving things as they are. He's been putting forth a valiant effort amid the scathing comments and crude behavior. Although a large part of her doesn't want to care, the smallest part that does care refuses to be ignored.

"You're right, I don't understand now, doesn't mean that I can't. So, spill what's going on with you and your music."

He doesn't know when it happened, but it doesn't bother him one bit that this woman sitting at the piano has the power to alter his mood with the slightest ounce of effort. She can make him fighting mad one instant and less than a second later cause him to grin like a Cheshire cat. And with that, he's back. "Only if you really want to know."

She relaxes relieved that they can climb out of a rut without breaking things.

"Sure I want to know, I asked didn't I? Yes, so stop being a douche and tell me."

"I'm not a douche." She rolls her eyes and gestures for him to continue. "The Lorno thing that you spoke so nicely about is where I'm honing my skills. Testing out material. It's like training. I've only been writing and stuff since I've been here, so, I'm a little behind the curve.

I want to be better. Sing better, write better. So, yeah, I'm working on it, just not like everyone else. I plan on making it one day. It may just take me a while…"

"Really I'm sorry. I guess I just didn't think about it, but I- you'll make it."

"Not that you had to say it but thanks."

Standing up from the piano, Mercedes walks with Noah to the counter to purchase their items.

When they make it to the register the cashier does more than cash them out. "You have a beautiful voice."

"Thanks." The compliment from the young man causes Mercedes to blush.

"That song was awesome. Are you a singer or something?"

"No. I'm just me."

"You should be. That was a pretty ridiculous song."

"Uh, thanks." This is becoming too much for her. She can't remember receiving such recognition in the past and she's only recently began singing in public again. Taking her change she and Puck leave the store.

Puck is walking side by side with her and pokes her in the shoulder. "See I told you."

"Noah." Her tone is playful but the warning is unmistakable. Puck slides away from her side raising his hands in surrender. He did not want to be on the receiving end of her anger any time soon.

Once they make it to the bike, Puck cranks it but waits before taking off remembering how cold Merce's hand were when they first pulled up. "Hey, you should put your hands in my coat pockets."

"I'm fine, I'll be fine."

"Stop being stubborn-it's gotten colder and your hands will freeze. Come on."

"Puck," he clears his throat and the guilt lands right on Mercedes' prompting her to comply. "Okay Noah."

She slides her already cold hands into his pockets. The leather jacket he's sporting is deceptively warm. Her hands glide into wool lined pockets soft and cozy from his body heat, her hands instantly warming. Mercedes hasn't been this close to Puck in years. Though she fears an onslaught of memories and feelings to burst through the barriers she has placed on her heart and mind, nothing happens. It doesn't incite some distant longing. Her only guess could be because it is new. This isn't Puck, it is, but sitting on this bike she is reminded of before when he felt more like the person, Noah, he claims to be. Instead of reminiscing, a new memory implants itself. She couldn't help the smile forming on her mouth thinking that maybe jumping in feet first with him today has in some way helped rid him from her system. Because with her arms encircling him and her hands gripping his waist, her heart doesn't ache nor is she itching to punch him. She would be fine. Mercedes is fine.

In stark contrast to the frigid wind blasting him, her warm breath taunts the back of his neck causing an inexplicable jolt to play along his spine. Had he missed female contact? Without a doubt he did. What heterosexual male wouldn't? And he is possibly enjoying this bike ride way more than he should considering the woman whose body is flush against him has a date with some pretty boy tomorrow.

Puck has no one to blame but himself. He'd had his chance and ignorantly passed it up. Now he stores away the memory of her hands holding tightly to him for safety wishing that the circumstances were different. But he would always have this memory. Instinct kicks in and he accelerates their speed by at least 10mph. As Puck expects Mercedes' hands holds him tighter, her legs also tightening. An ocean wide smile spreads across his face from the extra closeness. He definitely had one heck of a memory to store away.

Pulling up beside Mercedes' car Noah slows his bike down rolling to a stop. Not bothering to cut off the ignition. Merce immediately unlatches herself when they stop. The loss of contact jars him momentarily.

"Here we are."

"Yeah, thanks for the ride. It was fun."

"Really? You liked it?"

"I think it's safe to say I loved it. Would have been better if it was warmer, but it was great."

"That's cool."

"I'm going to go ahead and go," she says opening her door.

"Okay, talk to you later."

"Sure, bye."

They both drive home in different frames of mind. Noah is riding high on what he could call the best day off in a long time. Satisfied with how his day has turned out, Noah opts to take the scenic route home giving him time to think and relish the remainder of the night before going home to prepare for the early morning. He wants the day to linger, tomorrow it would all be a memory, but today it is reality. Picking up speed he purposely thinks of Mercedes.

Back in the parking lot Mercedes' thoughts couldn't be further from the day's events. Her mind is wrapped around the pending date – coffee thing she is to have with Garrison. It surprises her how much she is looking forward to seeing the beautiful charming man. She may have overlooked him before, but there is no way she could anymore. His presence is commanding, so much so she finds herself contemplating how she'd had the wherewithal to evade such a person in the first place.

Getting out of her car in the dorm parking lot, Mercedes feels her cell phone vibrate in her bag. Retrieving it she smiles. _Speak of the devil_.

"Hey, Garrison."

"Hey, Mercedes. Tomorrow you and me, huh?"

"I guess so, huh?"

"You don't have to sound so skeptical. Having second thoughts already?"

"No, just having fun at your expense. Trying to knock that ego of yours down a peg."

"Ouch, for the record you not wanting to see me is not funny."

"Aww that was sweet."

"I know, but it's true, so tomorrow, yeah?"

"Yeah, tomorrow, I'll be waiting for your call."

"That's nice to know, and don't worry I won't keep you waiting."

"That's nice to know," she says giggling at her little joke.

"Did you just giggle?"

"Yeah. So?"

"Nothing, it's just…refreshing coming from you."

"Oh…"

"I gotta go, but tomorrow."

"Okay, bye Garrison."

"Goodnight, Mercedes."

Mercedes enters her empty room shedding her coat and settling onto her bed. Today had caught her off guard, unexpected is an understatement. First Puck invades her 'her day', and then making a date with Garrison. This has been a day, but a day she feels good about. All of it.


	15. Author's Note

**Story is currently on hiatus. However, I am currently going over the chapters and rewriting them. **

**So, at some point I may delete most or all of the chapters and repost the edited better versions. **

**Don't know when that will be, so, for now, I want to say thank you to everyone that read this story, reviewed, favorited or followed. **

**A special thanks goes to ****AverageEverydaySanePsycho for sticking with my story and reviewing right up to the end. If you are reading this. I have not given up on this story and intend to finish it. **

**It will be finished just not right now. **


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